Before Jurassic World
by Keala Leilani
Summary: AU: Josephine King was down on her luck until Simon Masrani offered her the opportunity of a lifetime. Jo travels to Jurassic World as a security consultant tasked with ensuring the safety at the park while keeping a close eye on InGen. Can Jo change the events looming on the horizon or is history doomed to repeat itself? Her life isn't the only thing on the line. (Owen x OC)
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for checking out my story, hope you enjoy! I own nothing except Jo and her attitude.**

 ***Little update for those checking this out for the first time, the sequel has been posted for this story. It's called Sins of the Father. You should check it out when you finish reading this, along with the companion piece for this story which is in Owen's POV. If you do, I would love to know what you think. Thanks!**

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I cracked an eye open and tried to orientate myself. My head was pounding and my mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. I stifled a groan as I attempted, and failed, to sit up straight on my couch. The world seemed to be spinning a little fast this morning, gravity can be a real bitch sometimes.

The 10 beer bottles on my coffee table told me all I needed to know about last night and my non-existent coping skills. Who needs a therapist when you're over 21, and had a liquor store within walking distance?

"Ms. King, are you there?"

Apparently, the pounding I heard wasn't just taking place within the confines of my head. Seriously, who knocks, unannounced on someone's door at...OK, so it was noon on a Wednesday, but that was hardly the point.

"I'm coming, just, hold on," I mumbled, trying to stand without falling. Jesus, I needed some Tylenol. Maybe the mystery man at my door was really the Tylenol fairy. I shuffled to the door ignoring the nausea in my stomach and peered through the peep hole.

Two things became abundantly clear. One, this man was not the Tylenol fairy, which was disappointing. Two, the suit he was wearing most likely cost more than I made in an entire year. If I still had a job.

I grabbed my gun from the table by the front door and held it loosely in my right hand. Instinct told me this guy was about as violent as a Girl Scout, but my instinct had been slightly less than reliable lately. Let's not forget those girls could be vicious during peak cookie selling months.

I cracked the door open just enough to level my gaze at him. "Are you lost?" I asked.

"Are you Ms. King?"

He seemed utterly unperturbed by my disheveled appearance. I tried really hard to find some dignity standing in front of him in his Armani suit wearing yoga pants and a faded Dallas Cowboys T-shirt. I'm fairly certain I left my dignity somewhere in the middle of my coffee table with the beer bottles, but I'm a glass half full kinda girl.

"And you are?" Maybe if we both kept answering questions with questions we could set some kind of record.

"Of course, excuse me. My name is Simon Masrani." The way he said it gave me the impression he was use to just his name making an impact, and clearly conveying his message. Most likely he was use to dealing with people who weren't hung-over and gave a crap.

"Wow, congratulations." Vaguely, in the dark recesses of my mind the name registered on some level. If I could maybe get a damn Tylenol so the little drummer boy in my head would quiet down I might be able to figure it out. But right now that little shit was too busy pounding out Metallica's greatest hits.

"Listen, Mr. Masrani, I'm sure we could keep this little dance going and while I enjoy a little verbal sparring I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm hung-over, and I need you to just cut the shit. Why are you here?"

He tilted his head back, laughing in the hallway of my apartment.

"You are exactly as they told me you would be Ms. King."

That's not creepy. "Stop calling me Ms. King. It's weird. My name's Jo." I stepped back and swung the door open dropping my gun back to the table by the door. His eyes widened slightly. "Come on in. Something tells me you won't go away until you do so let's get it over with."

I moved into the kitchen rummaging through a drawer for some damn Tylenol while I grabbed a bottle of water. I saw Mr. Armani standing awkwardly in my small, dirty living room looking about as comfortable as a whore in church. His caramel colored skin stood out against his light gray suit and the scruff on his face did nothing to deter from his presence. Everything about him screamed money and power.

"Can I get you anything? Water or...water?" I needed to go shopping.

"No, thank you, I just need 10 minutes of your time Ms. King," he said as he awkwardly angled himself into the chair opposite the couch. He looked uncomfortable. Probably answering the door by pointing a gun at someone was rude.

"Jo."

"Right, Jo."

I moved into the living room and flopped down on the couch tossing some Tylenol in my mouth chugging water. "You can relax? I know it looks bad, but I promise I didn't drag it off the street corner," I said, pointing to the chair.

This time anyway.

He smiled leaning back. "Jo, as I said my name is Simon Masrani and I am the CEO of the Masrani Global Corporation."

Ok, well, wow. Now I really felt like an ass. The eighth richest man in the world was sitting on my Rooms To Go Furniture surrounded by enough beer bottles to make a fraternity proud.

"As you may or may not know, we are striving to build a fully functional theme park on Isla Nublar in Costa Rica. While most of the infrastructure to support the park is done we still have several portions of the project pending. Mainly the animal enclosures. We plan to open within a few years. Give or take."

"A theme park?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I'm assuming you don't mean Disney World." It wasn't a question. Isla Nublar could mean one thing and one thing only.

"You're quite right Jo. This would be a fully functioning dinosaur theme park."

Of course it would. I grabbed the bridge of my nose dropping my head in the process. "Dinosaurs. As in the kind that are, you know, alive?"

"Naturally, not much of an investment if they aren't, don't you think?"

This question was most likely rhetorical, and good judgment would tell most people to keep quiet. I've never been a slave to good judgment.

"Other than the fact that every time we decide to mess around with real live dinosaurs someone ends up getting dead. Yeah, great investment." I had a black belt in sarcasm.

His mouth tilted up in an almost smile. "That my dear, is where you come in."

I choked on my water. "I'm sorry." My inner skeptic was sitting up tall shaking her head back and forth. This was not good. Not good at all.

"You come highly recommended by some colleagues."

I snorted. "I find that hard to believe considering I'm currently unemployed."

"Yes, I heard about the unfortunate events at the bureau." My inner skeptic was now flipping Mr. Masrani the bird.

I stood up moving to look out the window with my hands on my hips. "Unfortunate is not how I would describe the loss of four innocent lives Mr. Masrani."

"Please Jo, call me Simon, and I apologize. I meant no disrespect concerning the events that surrounded your dismissal. It was my understanding the events which took place were outside of your control."

Ha, that was laughable. Downright hilarious in a dark, demented way. He was wrong. Those lives, all of them, were a direct result of my actions. I couldn't examine that right now. Maybe never. I packed it up with all the other miserable failures in my life jamming it into the darkest corner of my mind. I didn't want absolution. I didn't deserve it. I deserved suffering.

"I resigned."

"What?"

"I wasn't dismissed, I resigned." I wasn't sure why I felt the need to make the distinction. "Listen Simon, I've had a rough couple of weeks and as you can see I'm extremely busy so can we just get to the point of this whole shindig," I said waving my hand around the room.

Yea, I had a lot going on. Like catching up on X-Files reruns and getting more beer. Maybe not in that order.

"I would like to offer you a job."


	2. Chapter 2

I don't think I could have been more shocked if he'd waltzed into my apartment and started a strip tease.

"A job where?"

"At Jurassic World." Right, naturally because that was exactly how this whole scenario was supposed to play out.

"Jurassic World? The dinosaur theme park you're building?"

"Are you OK dear? You look somewhat pale?" Oh, I bet I looked pale.

"You, came here personally, to offer me a job at a dinosaur park?" I stumbled back to my couch and picked up the closest beer bottle tipping it back. Empty. Life was so cruel sometimes.

Simon shifted uncomfortably in his chair. This wasn't making sense. Why would Simon Masrani want me to work at his theme park? Why would he come here personally to offer me the job? What the hell did he expect me to do?

"You said I came highly recommended." This statement came complete with air quotes. "Who recommended me?"

"Katashi Hamada."

Well, fuck. "He works at your dinosaur park?"

"Jurassic World." Potato freaking po-tah-to. "And yes, technically, he works at the park."

"Technically? That sounds like a bullshit answer."

"I have to say Jo, talking to you is so refreshing. Most people tip toe around me and tell me only what I want to hear, but you simply speak your mind." He almost sing songed with amusement. I spoke three languages, English, sarcasm and real shit. Most people didn't find that talent so amusing.

"It's a disease. I'm taking medication and getting shots," I deadpanned. "Is that the job offer? To walk around and be your no bullshit person?"

"As amusing as that would be, no. As I said, Mr. Hamada recommended you to me. He works at the park, but was hired by a company I recently acquired, International Genetics."

This was too much; my bullshit meter was pegged to red at this point. "No offense to my 'ol pal Hamada's intellect, but why would InGen need a former Army and SWAT guy?"

Simon's sly smile told me my instincts hadn't completely abandoned me, I was right on the money this time.

"Perceptive, that's good to know. InGen has acquired several military contracts recently and, as such, has quite an impressive security division now."

"You still haven't told me how I fit into this," I said, massaging my temples.

"While InGen is a part of my company they have their own internal leadership. As such, that leadership has sole control over certain aspects of the park given we at Masrani Global are unable to fill similar roles. You Jo, would help eliminate that problem."

The drummer boy in my head had finally decided to take a water break, and my hamster was back on its wheel. With the wheels in my head turning at a slow, but steady rate, his angle was starting to take shape.

"InGen heads up whatever security force you plan to have at the park?" Simon nodded his head in agreement. "So, I would be working for InGen? As security? That's the job?" I wasn't real interested in being a rent-a-cop at a theme park, but my landlord was pretty adamant about paying rent with actual money.

"No, you would work for Masrani Global, me specifically, concerning security protocols and behavior analysis. Think of yourself as a consultant."

"That sounds made up." I'm all for making things up when unable to find real solutions, but a whole job description was pushing it even for me.

Security protocols sounded pretty open ended. Did that mean for the guests, the dinosaurs, InGen? And don't get me started on behavior analysis. I may have had a brief stint as a profiler at the bureau, but a dinosaur whisperer I was not.

"For all intense and purposes it is." He smiled. That didn't' really make me feel better. How far had I really fallen if I needed made up jobs from billionaires?

"You understand I have no experience or expertise with animals of any kind. I can't even keep plants alive."

"Yes, I have read your file. I am well aware of your expertise." My file. He read my file. How? I hadn't even read my file. "Josephine King, 32, orphaned at birth outside a firehouse. Mother and father unknown, presumably dead. Grew up in Houston, Texas as a ward of the state bouncing from foster home to foster home until aging out at the age of 18 years-old. You put yourself through college at the University of Houston where you joined ROTC, and were commissioned a second lieutenant upon graduation. Served five years in the U.S. Army with the military intelligence branch complete with two combat tours in Iraq. You were recruited by the F.B.I. upon leaving the Army to serve as a profiler up until last week when you resigned following a hostage situation in which four individuals were killed."

I felt like I had been sucker punched. He recited all of it from memory as if he was reading the phone book. My life, summarized down to the pathetic lowlights. Hearing it out loud, all my shortcomings, and inadequacies boiled down to essentially Cliff Notes made me want to either cry or hit something. I opted for the later.

I sat up, spine straight enough to make my old Drill Sergeant's proud and narrowed my eyes at Simon with my fists clenched on my knees. I suddenly wished my gun wasn't on the far side of the room.

"You have one minute before I throw you out of my house. Expensive suit and all."

"Please, forgive me, I meant no disrespect," he said as his gaze softened taking in the change in my demeanor. "Your service record is exemplary, a fact which Mr. Hamada confirmed. You two served together during one of your tours, correct?"

"Sure, nothing brings people together like explosions and gunfire, right?" Simon may be an inherently nice guy, but something told me his idea of hardship and mine weren't exactly in line. I didn't want to talk to him about war or anything else when his idea of a bad day was losing $10 million on the stock exchange before breakfast. "Thirty more seconds Simon."

"As the Director of Security Protocols and Behavior Analysis you would report to Masrani Global concerning safety as it pertains to the guests, threats within the park and preservation of their safety. As it concerns the animals you would inspect and consult regarding the development and maintenance of their paddocks. The behavior analysis part is slightly more fluid, shall we say. I want to ensure what happened in the previous parks does not occur in mine. To do that I need to be able to assess the dinosaur's current state of mind."

"I don't speak dinosaur." This guy was officially a few fries short of a Happy Meal.

"Yes, but you have studied human behavior from both a military and civilian perspective. You have hunted some of the vilest criminals man has produced. Boiled down to the basics, are man and beast all that different when cornered? Plus, there may be a need for your analysis of a more human variety from time-to-time."

Were humans and animals all that different when it came down to the bad stuff? I had seen the worst of humanity both in combat and with the F.B.I. I was by no means a paleontologist, but I knew dinosaurs could form familial bonds, they were smart, adaptable, vicious and cunning. According to National Geographic, Velociraptors were Stephen Hawking's brilliant. When confined in an environment contradictory to nature, because let's be honest no matter how much money Simon threw at the park he could never recreate what they had 65 million years ago and let people come for a visit, would they act any different than a desperate human?

Basic human instinct was fight or flight. Survive or die. I once had a case at the F.B.I. with a serial killer who captured, tortured, raped and eventually killed his teenage victims. One victim, chewed off her own thumb to get out of the handcuffs and escape. Yea, I was pretty sure when you were desperate enough, you could achieve pretty much anything.

There was another angle though. All this song and dance about safety of the guests and the dinosaurs was great for the brochure, but why would Simon Masrani himself come to my piece of shit apartment to offer me a job if that was the extent of it. The analysis of the "human variety" was a nice detail to slip in right at the end of the conversation too. He thought I hadn't noticed. He was wrong.

"And of course you want me to keep an eye on InGen?" I formed it as a question, but it was purely rhetorical at this point.

Simon's eyes narrowed as he looked at me smiling. "I see your reputation is not without merit Jo. Yes, I would like you to be my company's answer to InGen's desire to militarize everything. I want to ensure my company has covered its basis, and I have not been in business as long as I have by instilling blind trust."

"So you want me to spy for you?" I wonder if I would get a cool code name or maybe an Avenger type uniform to sneak around in. I would look pretty badass in a catsuit.

"Not spy, oversee. I will be mostly transparent with InGen regarding your position within our company. I want them to know who you are and what you are doing there to an extent. Keeping an eye on InGen's projects would not be your primary duty." Sure, occasional corporate espionage was really no big deal. "Security and safety protocols for our guests and consultations concerning the animal's paddocks as it relates to their behavior and concurrent safety would be your focus."

Mostly transparent was paramount to outright lying in the world I lived in. Apparently it wasn't in the world Simon lived in. This guy was all about subtle nuances, details slipped in when he thought no one was listening. It's probably how he made his fortune.

"Boy, that's a mouthful. You understand I am in no way qualified to be successful at anything you just said. Save maybe spying on InGen and profiling."

Ignoring my previous statement he continued, "So do we have an agreement?"

This seemed like a bad idea. A really bad idea. I knew nothing about animals. I wasn't even sure I liked animals. Animals meant commitment and commitment and I were estranged. I wasn't too big on relationships in general. The longest relationship I had was with my vibrator, and even it had let me down recently.

Security, I had some idea about in a combat scenario. Want to know the best points of entrance or egress, maybe the best point to ambush a supply chain then I'm your girl. Security as it pertained to a theme park, not so much.

Behavioral assessments of animals and the security of their play pens, was an unequivocal no. I knew nothing about that. Sure, I could read anybody. I could tell you Simon was right handed, weighted about 185 pounds, and couldn't fight if his life depended on it. He was kind, caring, and surprising unaffected by his wealth and status. He was carrying no weapons on him, and if I was to attack him his instinct would be to try to get me on the ground to choke me. This was helpful if I wanted to kick Simon's ass, not so helpful for working at Jurassic World. I'm pretty sure a behavioral assessment of a T-Rex would consist of, it's mean as fuck, run.

Behavioral analysis or profiling of his employees was right up my alley. Up until last week it was all I did.

On second thought, maybe this job wouldn't be so bad. "How much does it pay?" No sense in saying no without all the facts first.

"$100,000 annually plus an allowance for your move. We would of course cover your airfare and travel expenses to the island. We have corporate housing options available at the resort, but something tells me you might prefer an offsite location."

Holy. Shit.

Play it cool Jo, play it cool.

"Done. When do you need me there?" I mentally head smacked myself.

Simon jumped up from the chair and extended his hand, "Excellent, excellent. I will have my assistant call to go over all the details, but if we could get you out there in a month I would be ecstatic."

One month. One month and I would be far away from this place and all the memories. I could start over, maybe find somewhere I belonged. Hell, I could get a plant. Anything was better than my current situation. No future, no job and a dark past full of things I chose to ignore.

"I'll see you in one month Simon."

And with that handshake, everything changed.


	3. Chapter 3

I like to people watch. It's sorta like a pastime for me. I can't sing and have no artistic abilities to speak of so passing judgments on others from afar was pretty much in my wheel house. Of the 50 people on board the boat headed to Isla Nublar 10 were scientists. Their pocket protectors and incessant need to wear a lab coat everywhere, even on the boat, just to ensure everyone within a five mile radius knew they were smarter than them, confirmed it.

Fifteen were staff for the local restaurants and shops that will litter the theme park. Most were just out of college looking for an easy paycheck in paradise, no doubt much to their parents chagrin. Their conversations were relegated to the shallow depths of college football and the always "epic Spring Break" conversation complete with "dude" and "wicked" repeated at every possible interval.

Twelve were paleontologists or something equally as confusing that ends in _'gists'_ that means I studied dinosaurs. They were all wearing the same tan shorts that were too long to be called shorts really, and too short to be capris. I wondered if they have a convention where they got together to sell them. Guaranteed, if my life depended on buying a pair of shorts like that I would surely die. The ensemble was rounded out with the stereotypical jean washed, long sleeved, button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to their elbows. Each one had different variation of head gear from fedoras to ball caps.

The last 12 occupants on the Love Boat were InGen security. Every last one was former military, police or a federal agent as far as I could tell. How did I know they were InGen and not Masrani? Well, because as far as I knew I was the only Masrani security employee. Some looked battle tested, but most looked like they just dressed the part. There's no one giveaway that identifies a player from a pretender, at least not for me. If someone has seen what I've seen or lived what I've lived I can feel it. It's a tingle on my neck or a hyper awareness on my skin when I'm in their general orbit. You can't fake it and you can't buy it. I'd wager less than half the Rambo's lounged on the upper deck were worth crap in a fight. Now a danger to the recently graduated co-ed's virginity who were here on an extended summer vacay, absolutely.

The boat slowed as we docked at Isla Nublar, and I stood hefting my duffle up on my shoulder as I adjusted my sunglasses. Costa Rica was hot and humid, but I grew up in Houston where hot and humid was practically a lifestyle. I stayed at the back of the line patiently waiting to disembark while admiring the admittedly gorgeous view. I may end up getting eaten by a dinosaur, but at least it would be in paradise.

With that comforting thought in mind I exited the boat casually making my way down the dock. I was meeting with Simon and his Operations Manager before settling into my house. I had no idea who said Operations Manager was, but considering there was a very nervous, jittery looking brunette bouncing around obviously looking for someone I figured I'd start there.

"Are you Josephine King?" She looked slightly panicked as she looked at me. I think her fingers were actually crossed in prayer. I was tempted to offer her a Xanax.

"Jo, actually, and yeah that's me. Are you the Operations Manager I'm supposed to meet? Sorry, Simon didn't tell me your name." I reached out to shake her hand.

I would have thought it was impossible before, but she seemed even more jittery now. "Me, oh no, I'm Zara, Ms. Dearing's personal assistant. I'm to take you back to headquarters immediately, they're waiting for you." She was already walking away as she finished, ignoring my outstretched hand.

"Alright, HQ it is Zara." She didn't laugh. She didn't even turn around. She just walked, really fast, to an awaiting golf cart. "Nice ride."

No response, again. I must be off my game from the jet lag. Either that or British people really did have no sense of humor. The ride to headquarters was short, and I swear before the tires even stopped rolling Zara was out urging me up the steps of a massive skyscraper like building. Headquarters looked pretty swanky. Having met Simon this really wasn't a surprise.

"Where's the fire Zara? Are you late for something?" I'm as accommodating as the next guy, but this Olympic sprint to get to a meeting I didn't really want to be at was where I drew the line. What I wanted was a shower, some food and sleep.

"Me, no I'm not late, but your plane was incredible late. Which, in turn, made the ferry late. So, you are extremely late to your meeting with Ms. Dearing and Mr. Masrani." She was practically hyperventilating now.

"Look Zara, why don't you calm down or breathe into a bag or something. It's not your fault I'm late. It will be fine. I'll make sure to tell Simon and Ms. Dearing you practically broke land and speed records getting me here. OK?" She seemed to physically calm down at my reassurance, but our pace never faltered as we made our way to the elevators. She punched the up button on the first elevator she saw, and then proceeded to hit the other two just for backup purposes. A girl's gotta have contingency plans I guess.

The elevator behind us dinged, opening slowly. Zara was nothing but a blur as she moved with the speed of cheetah to get on. I hefted my duffel higher onto my shoulder, pushing my sunglasses on top of my head as I moved towards the open elevator door with my head down. I hadn't taken more than a step when I rammed into someone stepping off the elevator. It felt like hitting a wall.

I stumbled back, my duffle bag flying off my shoulder, sunglasses clattering to the floor behind me. I would have been flat on my ass in the lobby, but a pair of hands shot out steadying me by my upper arms.

"Shit," I said, attempting to right myself. I turned around, retrieving both my bag and sunglasses from the lobby floor.

"My bad. I didn't see you there. Are you OK?" A deep voice rumbled from behind me.

I turned around with all my possessions now in hand coming face-to-face with the voice. He had to be at least 6'3'' because he towered over my six-foot tall frame by a couple of inches. He was dressed like the crocodile hunter with long blue cargo pants that wrapped way too provocatively around a set of muscular legs. Was it normal to be turned on by cargo pants?

His tan Henley shirt stretched across his massive chest with the top two buttons undone showing a touch of tanned skin. Just when I thought this eye candy parade couldn't get any better I drug my eyes up to his face. He had eyes so blue they rivaled the ocean I'd just crossed, and I wanted to kick my own ass for thinking something so cheesy.

He had about a days' worth of stubble on his face, and damn if it didn't make him look even better. His short hair was slightly curly with strands sticking out in all directions around his head. It looked like the type of hair metrosexuals would die for, but this guy wasn't rocking it in a deliberate "I have gel and I'm not afraid to use it" way. No sir. The man standing in front of me sported a look that said, "I just got done wrestling a bear because I'm a man" kind of look. Bottom line, he was absolutely, without a doubt, the hottest man I had ever laid eyes on.

And he was currently looking at me like I had a mental disorder.

"I'm sorry, what?" I was such an idiot.

"Are you OK?" He enunciated each syllable slowly like I had a problem understanding the English language. I'm surprised he didn't attempt to sign it to me.

"Sure, I'm fine. Thanks." I went for cool and unaffected. The smirk I received from him told me I failed, and I felt my cheeks heat up like a moron. I moved past him to get on the elevator before Zara fainted, and I died of embarrassment.

"See ya around," he said as the elevator doors closed. I gave him a sarcastic thumbs up in return. I heard his laugh through the elevator doors. Man, I needed sleep.

"Who was that?" I asked, pulling Zara out of her iPhone dictation.

"Huh? Oh, that's Owen Grady. He works here at the park." No kidding. Doesn't everyone?

"What does he do?" I was trying for casual elevator conversation instead of deranged stalker, but wasn't sure if I succeeded as Zara stopped furiously tapping on her phone to eye me.

"He trains the Velociraptors." Of course he does. Yeah, because this is a dinosaur park with real live dinosaurs, and the man I just met totally looked like he would go nose to nose with the most vicious, intelligent dinosaur on the island. I'll be dammed if it didn't make him even hotter.

Fuck my life.

Thankfully I didn't have any more time to put my stalker tendencies into action as the elevator doors opened, Zara whizzing us out at the speed of sound. We weaved through more hallways and corridors than I could count. We passed the control room, a lab, and some smaller offices before stopping in front of a large corner office at the end of the hall.

Zara knocked lightly three times and I stifled a laugh. It sounded like some kind of code you used when you were a kid to get into a secret fort.

"Come in." Was the muffled reply from behind the door. Zara wasted no time opening the door and ushering me into the room. I saw Simon sitting behind a desk that spanned the width of the room. Really? Was it necessary to have a desk that big? I mean, more than half of it was empty for heaven's sake. I guess if you're one of the richest men in the world penis measuring is bound to take place on a daily basis, and that desk was a pretty good stepping off point.

"Ah, Jo, please come in. How was your trip? Can I get you anything?" Simon asked, rising from his desk to approach me. He enveloped me in an awkward hug considering I was still holding my duffle bag, and am not the best with physical contact.

"Uh, it was fine. Long, but fine. I'm good thanks to Zara here. You should see this girl move." I told him, pointing my thumb to Zara who was sneaking out of the room like a servant avoiding the King. I was trying to give her props, but apparently she had more fires to extinguish.

"Good, good, please come this way, I would like to introduce you to Claire Dearing, the Operations Manager here at Jurassic World." he remarked, gesturing to the red head currently standing in front of his desk.

I stumbled a little seeing Claire for the first time. She looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine or perhaps a runway at Paris Fashion Week. Her black pencil skirt was paired with a crisp white blouse and matching black jacket. I got the impression a wrinkle wouldn't dare adhere itself to this woman's clothing for fear of retribution. I'd seen military uniforms with move give than her outfit; she must have stock in starch. She had on at least three-inch heels, and not a hair was out of place in her short, fiery, red bob.

Jesus, was it a requirement to be hot in order to work here. If so, I think Simon may have violated HR policy when it came to me. I mentally took stock of my loose fit jeans, Reef flip flops, black tank top and short, gray hooded jacket. Classy.

Claire eyed me critically from head to toe and I tried really hard not to squirm, but she smiled warmly reaching to shake my hand. "Claire Dearing, it's a pleasure to meet you Ms. King."

"Just Jo is fine, please, and it's nice to meet you too Ms. Dearing." If I had to guess I would say Claire and I were around the same age, but she oozed sophistication while I oozed something else entirely.

"Please call me Claire. We will be working closely together after all." The last part was directed at Simon. I got the distinct impression Claire was trying to mark her territory. If she peed on this rug I had a feeling Simon might lose his shit. It looked expensive.

I'm sure Claire was just as confused as I was concerning my employment at Jurassic World. Nothing said I have no idea what you do like the title, Director of Security Protocols and Behavior Assessment.

Especially considering I was the "Director" of just me.

Half an hour of tense conversation later I was in Claire's car on the way to my new accommodations. From what I could gather from the meeting Claire didn't understand what I was doing on the island. Yea well, that made two of us. Simon patiently and painstakingly took her through his convoluted process of making up a job for me encompassing everything from security protocols for guest to animal therapist. He conveniently left out the spying on InGen portion of my job description. Something else to analyze on a rainy day.

In the end, the only real point Claire seemed particularly upset about was the fact I answered to Simon, not her. It was obvious to anyone who came within 50 feet of Claire she was poised, professional and serious about her job. She wanted to run a safe and successful theme park. She felt having a rogue security/behavioral consultant roaming the grounds could present issues. I agreed with her 100%, but promised to do my best not make her life any harder than it needed to be, for time being.

"Mr. Masrani said you would prefer to live offsite so we have set you up at the edge of the resort, near the coast." Claire said, glancing at me from the driver's seat.

"I'm pretty low maintenance so a camper on the beach sounds divine." I'm sure my chosen travel attire laid that out pretty clear. I was trying really hard to keep my eyes open behind my sunglasses to maintain a semi-professional appearance, but was fighting a losing battle. Besides, nothing screams professional like Reef flip flops.

"Your camper has running water, shower, facilities, and some outdoor furniture to help make it more...livable." She said the word camper like it left a bad taste in her mouth. I got the impression Claire would sell her Jimmy Choo's to Satan before she lived in a camper.

"That sounds great. Really, thanks for everything. The whole move has been pretty painless." I assured her as Claire pulled off onto a dirt road.

She stopped in front of a shiny, brand new Airstream. There was a porch built up to the front door that wrapped all the way around the camper facing the shore. A small strip of pristine white beach could be seen either direction I looked as crystal clear blue waves lapped up the beach. I could see a grill and patio furniture set up under an umbrella on front portion of the porch.

"Holy shit. This isn't a camper. This is a freaking Airstream, Claire. They cost a fortune." I was already out of her car and half way to the camper.

"I suppose. If there isn't anything else you need I have to head back. There are keys to the Jeep inside on the counter. The fridge is adequately stocked with some basics, but you can put in a requisition with my office for anything else you might want. Can you come by my office tomorrow? I will have Zara call with a time?"

"Sure, but I don't have a phone." I get a Jeep too? It was like Christmas in July.

"It's next to the keys inside. Call me if you need anything. My number is already programmed in." I had a feeling she would be forever grateful if I didn't call her. I was gazing around the property when I saw the outline of another trailer in the distance about 300 yards away.

"Hey Claire, who lives there?" I asked, pointing down the beach as she retreated back to her car.

"Owen Grady."


	4. Chapter 4

Inside unpacking the contents of my duffle bag I rolled around the idea of Owen freakin' Grady living 300 yards from my house in my head. I wasn't surprised he lived here and not in Trump Tower with the rest of high society. He didn't strike me as a room service and fuzzy robe type of guy. He was the type of guy who didn't need a lot to be happy. Probably you could give him a stick up gum, a paperclip and he'd turn into your resident Jurassic World MacGyver. In the end, I came to the conclusion it didn't really matter where he lived because I absolutely did not care. Mostly.

Done unpacking my clothes, toiletries and the few personal items I had brought with me I examined every inch of the Airstream with a fine-toothed comb. Only Simon would consider living in this thing a downgrade. It had granite countertops, a fully tiled shower, and a leather couch. When I found the flat screen TV hidden behind a panel I made a mental note to be nicer to Simon in the future. This was like winning the lottery. I wondered if I needed to leave my camper to do my job because I could hole up in this thing for a while and be fine. I was a little sad to admit it was nicer than my old apartment in Houston.

Admiring my new digs helped keep my mind off the fact I had the world's hottest neighbor living within spitting distance. This whole schoolgirl obsession was getting old, fast. I did not care about Owen Grady or his bulging biceps.

"Whatever. It's not like he's that hot." Decision officially made I stomped towards the bathroom. What I needed was a nice long, hot shower, and maybe a few rounds with my vibrator just take the edge off. Or maybe that would just accentuate the problem.

Twenty minutes later I was clean, my hair was combed, I was dressed in my PJ's, and in search of food. I decided to hold off on the vibrator, I'd only just got here, plenty of time for that later. I practically skipped into the kitchen, throwing open the fridge to see what Claire considered adequately stocked. I couldn't suppress a surge of laughter. A row of Sam Adams and Blue Moon beer starred back at me. I guess Simon was paying more attention than I thought at my apartment that day, and he had a pretty good sense of humor.

I decided to make a mustard and ham sandwich with potato chips crushed inside. This contains all of the essential food groups, and science has proven you can live off of it for extended periods of time if needed. It was one of my culinary staples. Grabbing my Sam Adams and sandwich I made my way outside to the porch. There was a steady breeze rolling off the coast and the sun was just setting beyond the horizon. It was beautiful. I didn't know how I got here, in paradise, with my feet up eating a sandwich, drinking a beer, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"I heard I got a new neighbor."

I paused with my sandwich half way to my mouth wondering if the universe was plotting against me. I peered over my shoulder to see Owen walking up to the porch dressed the same as I had seen him earlier. He looked good enough to eat. It was going to be a long night.

"Are you the welcome committee here to drop off my house warming gift?" He answered my question with a booming laugh.

"Sorry to disappoint, but I only found out about your arrival today so I'm a little behind on a gift."

"I guess I'll forgive you then."

He moved onto the porch, sitting in the chair beside me, propping one leg up on the table. "Besides, it would seem you already got a house warming gift," he said, gesturing to the beer bottle.

"Friends in high places," I grinned taking a sip. "Want one?"

"If the lady's offering." He smiled in a way I'm sure had separated many a woman from their panties. My inner debutante was outraged, hiding under the bed at my scandalous thinking. She was always kinda a prude.

I stood, setting my plate on the table making my way inside. I was really hoping he hadn't noticed my nighttime attire. I refused to feel self-conscious in my pink and white polka dot PJ shorts and black, slightly too tight T-shirt, with 'Brunch so Hard' scribbled across the front. I grabbed a beer from the fridge, making my way back out to the porch just in time to find Owen inspecting my dinner.

"Does this sandwich have potato chips in it?"

"Yes." Don't judge me.

"With ham and mustard?"

"Yes. I'm kind of a culinary pimp," I responded, handing him his beer as I sat back down.

He snorted tipping his beer back, taking a long chug. "Oh yea, what else can you make?"

"Well, I can order takeout really well, but something tells me my options are somewhat limited here."

"That is very true," he said, chuckling. I found myself smiling in return. "So, now that we're neighbors we should probably officially introduce ourselves, Owen Grady."

"Jo King." I gave him a little finger wave.

"Don't you mean Josephine King?" If he was trying to push my buttons I hated to tell him he was about 30 years too late for that jab.

"Jo will suffice, and someone's been checking up on me." My stomach did a little flip-flop, and I made a mental note to curb stomp my hormones later.

"I asked around, but no one seems to know a lot about our new Director of Security Protocols and Behavior Assessment." He raised his eyebrows at me in question. Yea, get in line on that one buddy.

"I can't believe our resident raptor trainer wasn't able to come up with more than my official name and title. I expected more." Two could play this game Mr. Grady.

He leaned forward in the chair letting the beer bottle dangle between his fingers. "Looks like I'm not the only one doing some digging."

"Please, I don't need to dig around to find out about you," I said, popping the remains of my sandwich in my mouth. His eyes narrowed in on me and I fought the instinct to look away from him. I felt like we were having a staring contest. My inner competitive goddess had perked up, and was conducting dynamic stretching exercises in the corner.

"By all means enlighten me." He said it as a challenge. Never one to back down from a fight, no matter how stupid it may be, I gladly accepted. My inner competitive goddess now had her matching red wristbands on, shadow boxing in the corner.

"Owen Grady, current employee of InGen. Apparently, you are crazy enough to get into a cage with raptors in an attempt to train them. No doubt that breed of crazy was fostered in the military. I'm thinking Navy, maybe even a SEAL. You're between the ages of 31 to 33 and weigh 210 pounds, easy. There's a KA-BAR strapped to the middle of your belt at your back. You're left handed and know how to handle yourself in a fight, but you're more of a street brawler." I took a sip of my beer before continuing. "You have some prior knowledge of animal training, probably with the Navy, and you genuinely respect the animals here. However, you don't allow that to cloud the fact that while your raptors may appear tame under certain conditions they are, by their nature, wild animals and capable of incredible violence."

I sat back looking at Owen pretty damn proud of myself. I hadn't lost my touch. Assuming any of that was true. By his stunned expression I was guessing I'd hit a home run. My inner competitive goddess had grabbed an American flag and was taking a victory lap around the stadium.

"How, how do you know all that?" he stuttered, seemingly more suspicious of me now.

"Did you miss the Behavior Assessment part of my job title?" By the look on his face, yes, yes he had.

"That's incredible. Disturbing, but incredible."

"Yea well, everyone has a talent."

"Are you going to tell me what you actually do here besides the creepy Ms. Cleo reading you just rattled off?" He finished his beer and set it on the table, waiting patiently.

"Near as I can tell I'm a stealth ninja who gets to run around the island and watch dinosaurs." At least I was hoping that's what I got to do if I was forced to leave my camper.

Owen was laughing so hard now he was actually doubled over in the chair. I tried not to take offense, I knew my pink polka dot PJ's weren't screaming stealth ninja, but did he have to laugh so hard.

"No seriously."

Ass. "I am serious. I'm a security consultant."

"So you work for InGen?" he answered, only smiling now. Slippery slope, here I come.

"Not exactly. I work for Masrani Global."

"I wasn't aware Masrani had a security force," he replied, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Force is a bit of an overstatement. They don't so much have a force, as they have me."

He looked at me like I had a dick growing out of my forehead. "Just you?"

"Did I stutter?" While the whole underestimating me thing was cute for about five seconds I was getting the overwhelming urge to punch him in the throat just to prove that I could.

"And what exactly are you consulting on?"

"What is this the Spanish Inquisition? Twenty questions? I'm a security consultant. I'm going to consult on security matters here at our lovely park." I was standing up now with my hands on my hips glaring down at a slightly amused Owen.

"And the behavior assessment part?"

"I would say that's pretty clear, I just assessed the shit out you didn't I?" I was pissed now. This guy knew nothing about me, but he was already convinced I couldn't be successful in my made up job.

Owen stood up slowly, bringing himself to his full height. It was meant as an intimidation tactic. He towered over me, our chests practically touching, I could smell sweat, the jungle, and something spicy that was all Owen. If he thought for one second this half-assed attempt at a power play was going to work with me he had another thing coming. I wasn't backing up and I sure as hell wasn't backing down. I tried to keep my breathing level as I continued to hold his gaze.

"While assessing each other sounds like a lot of fun, I think maybe it's a little too soon for that. Don't ya think?" he purred, his voice an octave lower, eyebrows raised slightly. The sexual innuendo just hung in the air between us. He was grinning while I debated the merit of kneeing him in the balls.

"You're an asshole."

He simply laughed moving past me, hopping off the porch towards his motorcycle. Of course he rode a motorcycle because this was not the type of guy who rolled around in a Prius.

"Good night Josephine," he hollered over his shoulder as he kick started his motorcycle and tore off towards his camper.

I was saved from having to come up with a witty reply to his retreating back as my newly issued cell phone rang from inside. Spinning around, I stomped inside like a two-year-old.

"Hello."

"Jo, this is Zara, Ms. Dearing's personal assistant."

I rolled my eyes. "Zara, I know who you are. You don't have to tell me your job title every time we talk."

"Right, of course. Ms. Dearing has time to see you at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, does that work for you?"

"That's fine. I'll see you then," I bit out, abruptly hanging up. Now, I felt like an asshole. I shouldn't take my frustration out on Zara. Her job as Claire's assistant seemed hard enough. It wasn't her fault Owen got under my skin.

Sighing I ran my hands through my hair falling face first on to my bed. This whole day had been long and exhausting. I needed sleep and a fresh start. As a drifted off something in the back of my mind told me tomorrow might not be any better.


	5. Chapter 5

_It was raining and humid. Not unheard of for Texas this time of year, but it presented challenges considering the circumstances. The rain was fogging up the sites for the snipers, and making a difficult shot near impossible. The SWAT breach team had little chance of achieving stealth in these conditions, but it didn't matter. I could talk this guy down; we didn't need to go in guns blazing._

 _Richard Hayes was a wealthy, and by all accounts, stable father of three. Happily married to his college sweetheart for 15 years, paid his taxes, and even coached his son's T-ball team. Utterly and completely normal until it had been discovered he had stolen millions of dollars from his company, Exxon Mobile, over the course of several years. This white collar criminal behavior resulted in Richard barricading himself and his family of four inside their suburban home on the outskirts of Sugarland at gunpoint._

 _"Mr. Hayes, I need you to stay calm. I want to help you, but hurting your family is going to make it very difficult for me to do that. Do you understand?" I said speaking rapidly into my phone._

 _"You listen! I said I wanted a car and guarantee of safe passage out of here. I want a plane that will take me wherever I want!"_

 _Why do they always want a plane? I blame it on television, they always ask for crap like that on TV, and now everyone thinks I can just snap my fingers and produce a Learjet_

 _"Mr. Hayes, is your family ok? Can I speak with them?"_

 _"No! You do what I say! I can't go to jail, do you hear me!"_

 _"I understand Mr. Hayes. Listen, I want to come inside. Is that ok? I think I can help if we could talk face-to-face." I needed inside that house. I needed to ensure the family was still alive, needed to know exactly where they were in case we needed to go in. I knew Richard loved his family, but he was desperate, and that made him unpredictable._

 _"No, you'll try to trick me! I want my car and my plane dammit!" He was escalating, losing all sense of rational thought. I had to act, now._

 _I turned to my partner. "I'm going in there," I said handing him my gun._

 _"Are you fucking insane. That guy is off his rocker. You can't just walk up to the door and knock." Martinez had a solid point, but time was running out. The longer this drug on the more danger the family was in._

 _"I can and I am. Take this and make sure you keep the SWAT team back. Nobody goes in without my say."_

 _"This is crazy Jo," Martinez pleaded with me._

 _"That's why I'm going in. I'm crazy, remember." I smiled stepping around him starting towards the house. At the door I knocked calling out, "Mr. Hayes, it's Agent King. Can you open the door please?"_

 _The door opened almost immediately, but it wasn't Richard Hayes who answered. It was his 10 year old son Luke._

 _"Hey Luke, I'm Agent King with the F.B.I. Can I come in?" The boy opened the door and I slowly stepped into the house shutting the door behind me._

 _Luke ran by back to his mother who was doing her best to shield all the children from Richard with her body. Richard was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace mumbling incoherently under his breath._

 _"Mr. Hayes, I'm Agent King with the F.B.I. We spoke on the phone," I stated calmly with my hands in the air. He whirled around on me pointing the gun at my chest._

 _"I told you not to come in. I said no!" he roared as he approached me._

 _"Mr. Hayes, I'm here to help. Why don't we sit down and talk about this. We could let your family go and I'll stay with you. No one will hurt you with me in here, you don't need to keep them," I said pointing to the couch where his terrified family huddled._

 _He looked at them almost surprised to see them sitting there. Richard Hayes was more imbalanced than I thought. This was all kinds of bad._

 _"I, I would never hurt them. I love them." he stuttered, distraught._

 _"I know Mr. Hayes, I believe you." I moved to put myself between Richard and his family. This caused an explosive reaction in Richard._

 _"Stay back. Get away from them!" He waved the gun back and forth between his family and me while I retreated back towards the foyer amid the screams of his children. He was shaking and sweating profusely. My ear com crackled to life with the sniper's relaying they had a clear shot now that Richard was directly in front of the bay window._

 _I heard Martinez utter a negative response reiterating to the breach team they were to hold, that there was a Federal Agent inside. There was a volley of conversation tossed back and forth between the SWAT team holding and my people struggling to maintain control on the ground. I was spinning trying to keep up with the development outside, and the quickly unraveling conditions in this living room._

 _Then I heard it, barley a whisper, the green light for the sniper to take the shot. My eyes widened as I looked at Richard who seem to have some sick sense that time was up._

 _"You bitch," he sneered as he unloaded two rounds from his gun directly into my chest. I fell backwards, my head colliding with the tile floor with an audible thwack. I groaned as a shot splintered the window slamming into Richard Hayes from behind._

 _I gasped for air rolling to my side seeing both rounds from Richard embedded in my vest. The front door exploded off its hinges at the same time as a flash bang was tossed into the living room. I heard a volley of gunshots whip around the living room over my head, but couldn't tell who was firing. The shouts and stomps of the SWAT team entering the room was drowned out by the after effects of the flash bang, and what I was almost positive was a concussion._

 _I crawled onto my hands and knees ignoring the pain in my chest and head trying to see into the living room. Then I saw it, Richard Hayes lying dead in a pool of his own blood by the couch riddled with bullet holes. Bullet holes that shouldn't be there if the sniper's bullet had met its mark._

 _I drug my eyes over to the couch choking on a sob. Dead, the entire family was dead on the couch._

I shot up in bed panting, drenched in sweat. I rubbed my face cursing then looked at the clock on the end table. Five o'clock in the morning. Great, five hours of sleep wasn't too bad.

I swung my legs out of the bed placing my elbows on my knees cradling my head in my hands. I pounded my hands against my skull whispering, "Get out of my head." I said it over and over, like a mantra.

Knowing sleep was impossible at this point I stood up quickly changing into spandex shorts, a sports bra and tank top. I went searching for my running shoes in the living room, and within 20 minutes was out the door tearing across the beach. I had my iPod strapped to my arm with the music blaring. I needed a distraction. I ran as fast as I could pushing my body to the point of punishment. My legs loosened up after the long day of travel yesterday, and after the first mile I hit my stride. I kept going, running down the beach so fast my lungs burned. It felt good. Anything was better than remembering.

Five miles later I collapsed in the grass outside my Airstream panting with the music still pumping through my headphones.

I felt a shadow drift over my face and cracked open my eyes to see Owen standing over me. I pulled out my earbuds letting my hands fall back to the ground.

"You're up early," he smiled down at me.

"Something tells me bikini season is 24/7 around here. I wouldn't want to fall behind," I retorted trying to slow my breathing down.

"Most people would take a few days to acclimate before running a marathon. I thought a dinosaur was chasing you the way you flew by my place." Had I run by his place? I didn't notice.

"I'm not most people I guess."

"That you are not Jo," he said as he reached his hand down offering to help me up. I accepted his hand because I was pretty sure without it I would be on the ground for at least another hour. "What's on your schedule for today?"

"Got a meeting with Claire in a couple of hours. After that, who knows?" I shrugged.

He quietly contemplated my response looking at me with an intensity that was unnerving for seven o'clock in the morning. "Well, I'm off to feed my girls. Have a fun on your first day Josephine."

By "his girls" I was assuming he meant the raptors. But who knows, maybe Owen had a harem stashed away at his place in case of an emergency. "Try not to get eaten Grady."

He laughed as if that was the last thing that would happen when dealing with vicious, blood sucking raptors. "Will do King." And with that he was off.

I climbed the steps to my house hauling myself into the shower. I had a couple of hours until my meeting with Claire, but considering I had no idea where I was going I needed to leave a little early.

After my shower I stood in front of my closet contemplate my wardrobe. I wanted to convey the message "It's my first day on the job, I have no idea what's expected of me, but I'm capable and confident". I couldn't find anything like that so I settled on a black pair of cargo pants complete with ass kicking black Bates boots. I grabbed a lightweight black Under Armour ¾ sleeve shirt, and pulled my long chestnut colored hair into a messy pony tail. Chestnut colored is really a just a fancy way of saying brownish blonde, but Cosmo magazine says calling it chestnut color is the new thing. Plus, it makes me sound more exotic than I really am. I strapped a KA-BAR knife to my right boot and made sure my Gerber knife was securely attached to my belt covered by my shirt. I'm sure my meeting with Claire didn't require weapons, but who knows what else I would be doing today.

I stared in the mirror and debated putting on makeup. Normally my answer would be an easy no just because I'm lazy, but the idea of facing perfectly polished Claire and the swag brigade had me applying a couple of swipes of mascara for extra courage. I'm not sure it did anything to help my plain, hazel eyes stand out, but a girl's got to work with what she's got.

I grabbed my keys, cell phone and Camelback backpack from the living room hoisting it onto my shoulder. Considering I had no idea what today would bring I felt I had prepared the best I could. Putting on my aviator sunglasses I stepped out the door not bothering to lock it. There wasn't anything inside worth stealing.

I jumped into the Jeep firing up the GPS inside hoping like hell it would navigate me to Claire's office. Thankfully, Claire is nothing if not prepared, and I found the headquarters building location already pre-programmed into the unit. That woman would have made a good Boy Scout.

Exactly twenty minutes later I was parked directly in front of the headquarters building. I stepped out of the Jeep looking around the mostly deserted interior of the park. It was an impressive sight with shops, cafes and restaurants lining the large walkway that made up Main Street. I wasn't sure I was parked legally considered the stares I was getting from the employees entering the building, but from what I could tell the parking lot was closer to my camper than this building.

I left my bag in the Jeep walking up the steps into the building. As the doors opened I was greeted by a blast of cool air. Air conditioning was a beautiful thing. I perched my sunglasses on top of my head walking towards the elevators. I pushed the button for Claire's floor while tapping my foot to the beat of the cheesy elevator music. I could get down to Disco music if the situation called for it.

The seventh floor was already awash with activity as employees dashed this way and that going about their day. I lazily walked in the general direction of most of the offices hoping to bump into someone who could tell me where I needed to go. Thankfully I was saved from too much wondering by the World's Greatest Assistant, Zara.

"Good Morning Jo. How was your night?" she asked falling in step with me as we traveled down the hall.

"Great. Yours?" Zara hadn't looked up from her iPhone yet. I'd never seen anyone type so fast on a phone before, it was impressive.

"Fine. If you'll follow me I'll take you to Ms. Dearing's office." I quietly followed Zara down the same hallway as yesterday stopping just short of Simon's office. No secret knock was needed today as she swung the door open.

While Claire's office may have been slightly smaller than Simon's it was no less opulent. A large, modern, white desk was centered in the room directly in front of a wall of windows overlooking the park. A sleek Mac computer was perched on Claire's desk along with a nameplate identifying her as 'Claire Dearing, Park Operations Manager'. While Simon's office was littered with dinosaur artifacts and personal effects, Claire's was barren. No family photos or kids art drawings. It was practically staged, cold and impersonal. Not a whole lot unlike the woman herself.

"Good morning Jo, thank you for being on time."

I wasn't really sure how to respond to that one, I was always on time. Well, almost always. "Sure. What's on the agenda for this morning?"

Claire wasted no time pushing a pile of paperwork towards me. "This is your contract with Masrani Global. Feel free to take it with you and review it tonight. Once you sign it you can give it to Zara and she will ensure you receive a copy." The contract in question was the size of a Harry Potter novel, and it made me wonder exactly what I had agreed to. "This is your badge. It gives you unrestricted access to everything at the park."

Oh, that sounded dangerous. I was going to put the unrestricted part to the test ASAP. Claire looked slightly less comfortable with the idea. The small plastic card came complete with a picture of me I did not remember taking, a computer chip which was embedded on the right hand side with a bar code lining the other. My title was taking up two lines of precious real-estate on the tiny card, and I made a mental note to talk to Simon about paraphrasing. I was officially an employee of Masrani Global Corporation, yea me!

"If you will follow me I will take you down to inventory where Mr. Hamada should be waiting." Claire was already up moving towards the door. We went back to the elevator and Claire hit the button for the basement prompting the elevator to ask an access card. She swiped her badge and a green light illuminated closing the doors plunging us down.

So you needed clearance to get into inventory. Something told me they weren't storing the extra paper and pens down here.

We stepped off the elevator into a large warehouse complete with locked storage cages on either side. The cages were filled with all types of tactical gear from clothes to weapons. I was pretty sure we had just passed a rocket launcher, but Claire was walking so fast I couldn't be sure.

"I knew you'd take the job Jo," said a voice from inside a cage to my right. Katashi Hamada was standing inside a weapons locker putting together a pretty impressive care package by the look of the gear stacked on the table.

"Considering you sold my life story to Simon it shouldn't be too surprising," was my rebuttal. Claire's eyes narrowed in on me at the casual use of Simon's first name. Something told me her and Mr. Masrani weren't on a first name basis.

"You always were melodramatic," he said walking over and shaking my hand smiling. I appreciated Hamada not trying to hug me like we were long lost BFFs. Handshakes I could handle, hugging was weird.

"It seems you two have a lot to catch up on. If you'll excuse me I'm late for my next appointment." And with that Claire retreated back the way we came with speed I personally would be unable to achieve in heels.

"She's a trip, huh?" Hamada asked nodding his head to the spot Claire had recently vacated.

"She's not so bad." Claire probably had a bad rap around this job. Women living in a predominantly man's world always did. It was a position I could relate to. "Any of this stuff for me Commander Hamada?" I asked gesturing to the contents on the table referencing his prominently displayed title on the front of his uniform.

He sighed ignoring my sarcasm directed at his rank of 'Commander' turning around. "You know I'd never let you down. It's Christmas come early for you Jo."

He wasn't lying. By the time we were done and standing at the checkout counter of this doomsday basement I had signed for a tranquilizer gun, the InGen version of body armor, an electronic micro ear communication system, night vision goggles, what can only be described as a GoPro camera, a .40 caliber Glock with ammo and a NcStar 3-piece drop leg gun holster complete with a magazine holder. I was going to look like Lara Croft if I ever put all this crap on.

"Is all of this really necessary?" I asked Hamada as we carried my apocalypse gear back to my Jeep.

"You did notice there are dinosaurs on this island, right?" You know, now that he mentioned it, I hadn't actually seen any dinosaurs yet.

At that moment the front doors of the headquarters building opened and out sauntered Simon trailed by at least 15 people. That man knew how to travel with an entourage. He would have been a great rapper.

"Jo, I assumed this Jeep belonged to you?" He didn't sound mad I had decided to park my Jeep in the middle of Main Street.

"You do realize the closest parking lot is five miles away from this building?"

He simply laughed and kept walking his minions hot on his heels. I saw Claire turn to glare at me as she passed, clearly not impressed with my parking skills.

Hamada seemed to visibly relax once Simon rounded the corner vanishing from sight, "Only you Jo. Only you."

I shrugged and finished loaded all my gear into the back of the Jeep.

"Listen, I need you to take a look at some stuff for me," he said leaning against the Jeep.

"And by stuff, you mean?" Warning bells were blaring inside my head. Danger Will Robinson!

"Personnel records for some of the new InGen security recruits."

"Don't you have your own people to do that? And shouldn't you have done that before you brought them to the island?"

Hamada rubbed his hands over his face turning to face me. "We did, we do, but I want your take on them. It will take InGen's people two weeks to make a decision. It will take you two minutes. Plus, I trust your opinion."

The part about not trusting InGen hung in the air. "I'm not a profiler anymore. You know that." I pushed off the Jeep and started back towards the building.

"I'm not asking you to profile homicidal maniacs. I just need you to look at their files, talk to them, tell me if they have what it takes to do this job." He fell in step with me looking hard at the ground. "These guys will have lives in their hands, sometimes even mine. It's my job to make sure they are up for the task."

Guilt trip complete. "Fine, but you owe me coffee. That Starbucks down the street looks open."

He slapped me on the shoulder turning back, "You got it Jo. You still into pumpkin spice latte's?"

"Yea, but no whip cream. I gotta watch my girlish figure," I said striding back inside. Time to delve into the minds of InGen's finest.


	6. Chapter 6

**This one's for my road dog Saint-Brooke-Lynn**

* * *

Two hours and 10 files later I was utterly convinced if an incident were to occur on this island we were all going to die rather horrific deaths. These guys weren't qualified to defend a Baskin-Robbins, much less an isolated island inhabited by prehistoric dinosaurs. I settled my elbows on the table placing my head in my hands wondering how legally binding my contract actually was. There were always legal loopholes, right?

"This doesn't look good," Hamada said, striding into the room taking a seat across the table from me.

I took a deep breath, counted to 10 and then to 20 before leaning back in the chair, crossing my arms over my chest. I pointed to a stack of nine folders sitting to my left, "Those nine either need to be put on a boat and shipped out of here immediately or shot." Personally, I was leaning toward the shooting option. I pointed to the solitary file on my right, "That one might have what it takes. Maybe."

"One out of 10? Really, Jo? They can't all be that bad." Hamada was up and pacing behind the desk now.

"Listen, you asked for my opinion I'm giving it to you. Those nine are not ready, will never be ready." I tracked him as he made his way back and forth across the room. "Did you know one of them was arrested for arson and still lives in his mother's basement?"

"What?!" He stopped pacing, staring at me with his mouth open and eyes wide. "That was in his file? How could we have missed that?"

"You didn't miss it. It wasn't in his file. He told me."

Hamada was speechless, utterly speechless standing in the middle of the room looking very much like a man who was questioning his life choices. I knew the feeling well.

"Why would he tell you that?" Now he was back to pacing. "These guys went through multiple polygraph tests and interviews. Why would he just volunteer this now?"

"That's not the only issue; two of these guys falsified almost everything in their file. It's like a bad work of fiction," I told him, ignoring his question digging through the pile of folders. Hamada stopped pacing, and leaned against the wall shaking his head back and forth with his hands on his face.

I felt bad for the guy. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't mean to make this harder for you than it already is, but you asked me to take a look and these are the facts."

"I believe you Jo. It's just a shock. I thought InGen was better than this. Thanks for doing this, I'll let management know about the results." He gathered the files in his hand as we walked out of the office making our way to my Jeep.

"I'm sorry Katashi, really. I wanted them to not suck too. Between the two of us I'm sure we can come up with a short list of people crazy enough to come here. Just let me know if you need any more help."

"Sure, where are you headed off to?"

"I'm going to go see some dinosaurs," I answered excitedly, climbing into my Jeep.

I was slightly disappointed to find out Velociraptor paddock wasn't pre-programmed into my GPS, but I was able to get a general idea of where to go from some of the onsite security personnel outside the building. According to them, the raptor paddock was located on a secure part of the island separate from the park itself overlooking the ocean. I got the distinct impression not a lot of people ventured out there, and by the look on this guy's face he were convinced I shouldn't either.

"It's highly restricted access ma'am." The rent-a-cop was eyeing me through my Jeep window with a doubtful expression.

"I wouldn't worry about that. I have a permission slip." I flashed my all access backstage employee badge tearing out in the direction the guard had pointed to for the raptor paddock. The roads were mostly dirt, and it was relatively slow going with the twists and turns in the road weaving through the jungle. No wonder Owen drove a motorcycle. I'm pretty sure I could have walked faster than I was driving.

It took 45 minutes, but I finally saw the raptor site come into view. It was an impressive setup with what looked like office type buildings off to the left and the paddock for the raptors directly in the center. The paddock looked to be made of solid concrete reinforced with steel beams at steady intervals. Above the enclosure was a crisscrossing metal walkway leading to stairs that led down at various points around the paddock. There were several pens and holding places scattered around area. I pulled to a stop next to Owen's bike, killing the engine.

I stepped out of the Jeep, squinting at the sun overhead. It was the heat of the day on Isla Nublar and the sun was oppressive. I adjusted my sunglasses and the leg harness for my gun. I'm mature enough to admit I put it on because I thought it made me look badass, and a part of me wanted to look really badass when I saw Owen. Especially considering the hysterics my job title seemed to send him into last night.

I wandered closer to the raptor paddock inspecting the site, taking mental notes of all the security measures in place.

"Can I help you?" Turning to the left I saw a tall, dark skinned man with a bald head, and an athletic build approaching me. He was wearing loose fitting board shorts, and a wife beater topped with an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. His accent was obviously French. He approached me with friendly curiosity.

"Hi, I'm Jo King, I'm here to take a look at the raptor paddock and hopefully get a look at your girls." I reached out to shake his hand.

"Barry, I work here as a trainer with the raptors." He shook my hand and motioned for me to follow him. "I didn't know anyone was coming to inspect us today, but feel free to have a look around. The girls are currently in containment."

"I'll start on the outside of the structure then take a look inside with you or Owen if that works for you?"

"You know Owen?" he asked, clearly surprised.

"Doesn't everyone?" Owen replied from the stairs leading down from the catwalk. "Well, don't you look official today," he smiled, gesturing to my outfit.

"I debated leaving my weapons in the car considering I often have the inclination to shoot you, but decided to risk it just for today."

Barry shook with laughter, eyeing Owen closely. "It was nice to meet you Jo. I'll be inside finishing up those reports if you're good here Owen?"

Owen nodded and Barry retreated back to the offices. Owen and I started making our way around the paddock with me asking the occasional question and him supplying the answer. Once we were done outside we made our way inside the paddock.

"The girls are in containment so we can take a look inside," he said as he pushed a green button opening the steel cage doors from the ground up. We repeated the action once more before stepping inside the paddock. Owen waved his hand forward, bowing slightly, "After you."

I nodded and stepped into the paddock pausing a few feet in to look around myself. It was a fairly large enclosure and pretty damn impressive. "How many raptors do you have?"

"Four." I nodded, continuing my walk around the perimeter.

"How old are they now?"

"A little over six months, and growing like weeds."

I made my way around the entire paddock, stopping from time to time to examine different points. "You need to keep the underbrush cut back. They may not be attempting it now, but once they are older they could use it for leverage against the wall."

"You think they would climb a tree to get out?" He sounded like I had just told him Santa Claus was real.

"The raptors at Jurassic Park were observed learning to open doors after only seeing it done once. Are you really willing to take the chance your girls don't figure something out?" I walked on leaving a contemplative Owen in my wake.

He jogged to catch up, "Do you have experience with animals?"

"No, but I can read." The events at Jurassic Park were well documented, and I would be a fool to ignore the books as a resource once I accepted the job here.

"Alright, we'll make sure the grounds crew keeps the area directly in front of the wall cut back."

I nodded, turning to face Owen as we stood in front of the gate we had entered through. "So, can I meet your girls?"

Owen smiled brightly, if not a little mischievously, and told me to follow him. We exited the paddock and two security gates before walking around to the containment units. Only the raptors heads were visible as we entered. They were restrained using a pressure harness, which immobilized their jaws from above leaving them unable to do more than growl and shake.

"These containment units are built to withstand more than triple the pounds per square inch the raptors will be able to exhibit once they are fully mature," Owen explained, walking into the unit.

I followed him inside getting my first look at a dinosaur. I couldn't believe I was standing next to previously extinct animals. It was amazing. The raptor directly in front of me had vibrant blue streaks down either side of her head that traveled the length of her torso. Her yellow eyes were locked on me as I approached.

"This is Blue, she's the oldest," Owen said as I continued staring at Blue. She struggled briefly in her restraint as I approached, and Owen touched the side of her head whispering assurances to calm her down.

"She's beautiful. Can I touch her?" I asked Owen, stepping closer to Blue. I could feel his eyes on me, but I couldn't look away from Blue.

"Sure."

I stepped on the other side of Blue placing one hand under her jaw the other on the side of her face. Her skin was softer than it looked. I thought it would feel leathery or scaly, but it was soft as silk under my palm. Blue thrashed slightly in her pen, and I mimicked Owen uttering a quiet, "Shhh, easy girl."

She seemed to relax and I swear I could see her emotions flashing through her yellow eyes. This animal had the eyes of a hunter, a killer. She was intelligent, a leader, and most definitely in charge of this brigade. Her steely gaze never wavered from mine as she took in my presence struggling to determine my purpose here. I saw a subtle change in her demeanor right before she started thrashing violently in her pen. Blue had made up her mind, I was officially a threat.

I dropped my hand, taking a step back, turning to face Owen. He had a bewildered look on his face.

"What?"

"I've just never seen anyone walk in here and pet a raptor without so much as a tremble of their hand before."

I shrugged, "Maybe she's not the scariest thing I've ever seen." I turned to the other containment units. "What are their names?"

He didn't answer right away. He seemed to be studying my face looking for an answer he clearly couldn't find, it seem to frustrate him. "That's Echo, Charlie and Delta," he explained, pointing to each one as he went.

If I had any doubt as to whether Owen was military it was gone now. I smiled as I looked back at him. "Original."

"Shut up," he snapped as we made our way out of the containment units just as Barry joined us. "Is there anything else I can do for the Director of Security Protocols and Behavior Assessment or can we all get back to work?"

"There's no need to get your panties in a twist just because I said you lacked originality." Barry seemed to be fighting a losing battle with not laughing today. "I'm sure a lot of people find the phonetic alphabet poetic."

"Wow, dress you up like G.I. Jane and you get all kinds of mouthy," Owen threw back at me, tilting his head to the side contemplatively. I freaking new all this shit Hamada gave me was overkill. I smiled sweetly at him as I turned to walk back to my Jeep. Halfway there I stopped calling out to Owen.

"Oh, there is one thing. I'd keep an eye on Blue. She's the Beta in the pack, but Echo is going to make a play for the spot. If you aren't careful one of them could really get hurt." I turned on my heel continuing to the Jeep. I had just shut the door when Owen ran up to the window.

"How would you know that about Blue? You spent two minutes looking at her? You haven't even seen them all interact, and you barely glanced at Echo."

I cocked my head to the side and started the engine. "Fifty bucks says it happens by the end of the week. I mean it, keep a close eye or you might lose one of your girls before it's all said and done. Drop the money off at my house when you lose."

With that I put the Jeep in reverse leaving a bewildered looking Owen in my rear view mirror.

* * *

 **Major shout-out to everyone who has reviewed, favorited or followed the story...I feel the love!**


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the week passed in a similar nature, I would review files for Hamada, and eventually give him the bad news that everyone InGen was sending his way was likely to get someone killed. On a positive note, he was getting better at taking the news in stride. We agreed to sit down and come up with a list of potential candidates on our own. InGen's method of recruiting from Craigslist wasn't really working out.

It had been a long week and I was ready for a day off, but first I needed to finish up at the T-Rex paddock. Currently, I was sitting against the wall in what appeared to be a plastic tube running directly through the middle of the enclosure trying to not bang my head against the wall in frustration.

"So, we drop the goat in via the mechanized system here, and it's lit with a red flare that should attract the T-Rex to signal that it's time to feed," rambled the paleontologists, waving his hands around excitedly. He was currently showing me the ins and outs of having a T-Rex for a pet.

"I get it Sparky. Red flare plus goat equals dinnertime. That's not my issue. What I'm telling you is this animal has been conditioned. It will associate the color red, any variation of the color red, with eating," I told him, standing up. "And considering you have the goat about three inches from this plastic tube you might want to consider protocols to ensure no one in here inadvertently becomes dinner by wearing a Cincinnati Red's jersey."

"These walls are built to withstand..." I stopped listening. This had to be at least the third time he'd rattled off the manufacturer specifications of the plastic tube surrounding us.

"Enough about the tube! Would you be willing to risk your own life on this piece of shit contraption?" I yelled, stalking towards him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a half step back looking slightly nauseated by the idea of putting his life in any kind of danger. I hated to break it to the guy, but considering he worked here his life was pretty much in constant danger, whether he acknowledged it or not.

"I mean, are you willing to test the limits you've been spouting off with a T-Rex bearing down on you? If the answer is no, then no other person who comes down here should have to either. There have to be restrictions on what people can wear or bring down here to ensure the animal doesn't mistake someone in here for the goat out there," I snapped, pointing to the feeding spot.

I stalked off, ready to call it a day when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Hamada asking to meet at Margaritaville tonight at eight o'clock.

"Margaritaville, really?" This place was so corny. I texted him back, letting him know I would meet him there and headed home to relax. As I drove up to the house, (I'd decided to stop calling it a camper or my Airstream; house sounded more mature, permanent, official) I saw Owen sitting on my front steps. Owen referred to his camper as a bungalow, but that just sounded stupid to me.

I cut the engine, grabbing my bag from the backseat making my way towards the house. "Why is the world's greatest raptor trainer looking forlorn on my porch?" I asked, leaning up against the railing.

He looked up at me, squinting against the sun as he stood. It was then I noticed something in his hand. He took a step down the stairs handing me a $50 dollar bill. He seemed so upset about handing it over I did my absolute best to not in any way smile or show my amusement. Maybe.

I took the money as he stepped off the porch walking back towards his bungalow. I started up the steps when I heard Owen ask, "How did you know?"

I turned around facing him. He looked tired and a little defeated. It was a strange look on him since he normally exudes so much confidence it's annoying. I'm not sure if he was upset I was right or that he hadn't seen it coming. Maybe a little of both.

I debated cracking a joke, but decided just this once to have mercy on the poor guy.

"I saw it in her eyes." It wasn't much and I couldn't really explain it, but it was the truth. He seemed to bat the idea around in his head for a minute before nodding. "Is Echo alright?"

"Yeah, thanks to you. I was watching them both pretty close, and was able to break it up before either of them could do any real damage. Blue won, just like you said she would. Echo hasn't showed any aggression since then." He shoved his hands deep in his pockets huffing out a breath. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said and he turned around continuing home. I walked inside feeling less than excited with winning the bet and couldn't, for the life of me, figure out why. I decided to leave it on a shelf for later examination, hopping in the shower so I could get ready to meet Hamada.

At exactly eight o'clock I was sitting at the bar at Margaritaville, dressed in dark skinny jeans, a loose fitting racerback tank top, and flip flops waiting for Hamada who was officially late. I left my hair down tonight, a bold move in this humid climate, and even though it was past my shoulder blades now it had cooled down enough this evening I wasn't sweating, yet.

In the face of having to choose between a Mesozoic Margarita or something equally as ridiculous from the menu I opted for a plain old beer. That alone set me back $8 and I suddenly realized Simon would make a fortune on alcohol alone once this place opened.

Hamada slid into the high bar stool next to me, "Sorry I'm late."

"No worries, I ordered you a souvenir cup Mesozoic Margarita as payback." He laughed and ordered a beer of his own, and a hamburger from the bartender.

"Great, that should only set me back $30." I laughed and dug a piece of paper out of my back pocket sliding it towards him.

"Here are the names of some guys who fit the bill. I have contact information for some, but for others not so much." I shrugged, tipping back my beer. "Besides, I'm sure someone at InGen can track them down."

"Thanks Jo. Means a lot. Am I allowed to mention you when I make the calls?"

"Hell no!" I retorted, "Not if you want them to take the job."

He smiled, drinking his beer as he reviewed my list. "You know, I never thanked you. For what you did...over there," Hamada forced out, unable to look me in the eye.

I ran my hands through my hair shifting uncomfortably in my seat. "I don't really think almost getting you killed calls for a thank you." I flagged down the bartender as she rushed by ordering another beer.

"You didn't almost kill me. You came back for me. You pulled me out of there. If it wasn't for you I'd be dead." He looked down at the bar, fiddling with the wrapper on the beer.

Over there, otherwise known as Iraq. Hamada and I had served together during one of my tours. I almost got him killed with the faulty intelligence I used to plan a mission.

"If it wasn't for me we wouldn't have been there in the first place." I didn't want to talk about this with him. These things were best left in the past where they could fester in peace. I swiveled my bar stool around in a effort to end the conversation, and almost fell out of it. Walking into Margaritaville was Claire with Owen guiding her by the small of her back. I choked on my beer, turning back around to face the front of the bar grabbing a napkin to wipe my mouth.

Owen and Claire together at Margaritaville, on what appeared to be a date. I did not want to examine why that thought made me feel like throwing up in my mouth. Looking into the mirror behind the bar I could see the two of them weave their way through the crowd to a table for two in the corner. Claire looked amazing, per the norm, if not a little fancy. She was wearing a flowing blue halter sundress with wedge heels. Her hair looked immaculate with not a single strand daring to step out of place. How she managed to wrangle it into submission in this humidity was one of life's great mysteries.

Owen on the other hand was a different story entirely. He was dressed in black board shorts and a white T-Shirt with flip flops rounding out his ensemble. I thought he still look good enough to eat, but I was guessing by the look on Claire's face she was having opposite reaction. In fact, they both looked to be having about as much fun as someone undergoing a colonoscopy.

"Is there a reason you look like you are trying to fade into the top of the bar there Jo?" Hamada looked genuinely amused at my behavior. I didn't blame him, what the hell was wrong with me?

I made a conscious effort to sit up straight like a normal person, turning towards him. "No reason, just stretching."

"Uh huh. And the fact that this coincided with Owen and Ms. Dearing walking in here is purely coincidental?" There was so much sarcasm dripping off his statement I needed a Wet-Nap.

"Yep," I replied, popping the 'p' smiling sweetly. Hamada laughed and we returned to the list where he was making notes while asking continuous, rapid-fire questions. The only good news about Claire and Owen's date night, puke, was it had distracted Hamada on his trip down memory lane.

"Well, this is enough to get me started. I'll run it by InGen in the morning." He stood up from the bar stool, slapping down some money down to cover his tab. "I got a training exercise all day tomorrow so I'm headed home. You good?"

I nodded and waved as he left the bar. Feeling a little too much like a loser sitting by myself at a bar on Friday night I finished my beer, settling my own tab. As I hopped down from the stool I had to fight the urge to look over my shoulder at Owen and Claire.

I was able to make it out of the restaurant without sneaking a peak in their general direction, and mentally patted my self-control on the back. I knew I had some somewhere deep down inside it was just on vacation most of the time. I wandered down Main Street towards my Jeep in no particular hurry to get back to my empty house, but seeing as how I had nowhere else to go and no friends to speak of it left me with limited options.

Once I was back at my house I decided I had two options. One, be a sensible, responsible adult and go to bed fairly early ready to tackle another day on Isla Nublar. Or two, drink more beer on my ocean front porch alone. I weighed each option heavily before deciding option two held more promise than option one.

Since I minored in laziness while at college I filled up a bucket with ice and shoved four beers in, dragging it out onto the porch. Now, I didn't even have to get up to get more beer. I knew four plus years of school would pay off sooner or later. I had my iPod plugged in with some savory tunes filling the night. Not too bad for being by myself on a Friday night. I knew option two was the way to go.

I heard a rumble in the distance, and closed my eyes praying I wouldn't see Owen whipping past my house with Claire clutching him as they rode by on his motorcycle. I had somewhat come to terms with them being on a date, but reconciling the fact they were at his douchebag bungalow all night was seriously testing my gag reflex. Then, I mentally karate chopped myself because the likelihood of Claire Dearing getting on a motorcycle was about one in a billion.

Besides, it was none of my business who Owen brought back to his stupid bungalow of love. I had no doubt that man didn't spend consecutive nights of the week alone. I, on the other hand, was experiencing somewhat of a dry spell. I blamed my current predicament on the fact I was essentially marooned on an island with a limited dating pool. How I accounted for the other two year's back in Houston was slightly harder to explain.

"Up for a little company?" I was so caught up in my mentally gymnastics I hadn't heard Owen approaching. Not waiting for an answer he plopped down on the couch next to me, and I handed him a beer.

"I'm not an expert or anything, but isn't having a date end before ten o'clock bad?"

He snorted, chugging half his beer before answering, "That, was not a date."

"Seemed like a date," I responded matter-of-factly.

"You and Hamada's date doesn't seem to have ended in any headboards rattling."

Eww. "Hamada is married with about 50 kids. That image is just disturbing."

Owen seemed to like the idea of Hamada and me _not_ being on date. Why he cared when he was out with the Senior Park Operations Manager was confusing.

"She printed out an itinerary," he scoffed, finishing his beer, grabbing another before sitting back against the couch. "Who does that?"

OK, I'm no dating guru, but that seemed a little strange. "She was probably nervous. Give her break. You're the one who asked her out. Have you met Claire Dearing? She's not exactly laid back." I had absolutely no idea why I was trying to make his train wreck of a date sound better.

He glanced over at me, but remained silent so I forged on. "Besides, from her perspective your board shorts weren't exactly screaming I'm taking this date too seriously."

That got a reaction out of him. He sat up twisting to face me head on. "That is exactly what she said! Is there some kind of class all women go to outlining what is and is not acceptable for men to wear on a date?" He was pretty fired up.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Do you think my board shorts look bad?"

"I didn't say you looked bad. I think you look hot, but someone like Claire is going to see it as a big, fat fuck you," I told him honestly, finishing my beer and reaching for another.

"You think I look hot?" he asked suggestively, leaning towards me completely ignoring the point of my statement.

I froze, my hand halfway to the beer. Did I say he looked hot? I hadn't meant to, that's for sure. I mean, he was definitely hot, but you absolutely did not say things like that to people like Owen Grady.

"I, uh, what I meant..." I looked over at him and his face had lost all trace of humor. He was looking at me using the full force of his "I'm an ex-Navy, raptor training, extremely muscular man" look. I felt like my panties might spontaneously combust at any moment. I jumped up from the couch, backing away from him like he was a Velociraptor. I'm pretty sure I even had my hands up in the air as a defensive measure.

"Stop looking at me like that you're freaking me out," I hissed, backing away even further. This man was seriously dangerous. He looked every bit the predator I knew he could be. He understood exactly how to get under a woman's skin once he had them in his sights, and currently I felt like he had me in his crosshairs.

He stood up slowly, moving towards me, and I felt my fight or flight response kicking into overdrive. I'm not sure why watching Owen stalk towards me with a slow, steady gait freaked me out except I'm pretty sure if this man ever touched me I would absolutely never recover.

"You're cute when you're nervous." I balked at his statement, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. I wasn't nervous. I was mildly concerned I'd either run screaming into the jungle or jump on him right there on my porch, but that didn't equate to nervous. Did it?

"Owen, seriously, cut it out. I don't want to have to hurt you."

He tipped his head back and laughed. "Jo, no offense, but you're about as intimidating as an angry kitten."

"What the actual fuck!" I would show him how much damage an angry kitten could do. I was done lusting after him on my porch now. I was no longer nervous. I was ready to rumble.

"Alright, calm down there Mike Tyson," he laughed, moving past me towards the stairs with his hands up much like mine had been a few minutes ago. "I think it's time we call it a night."

I moved to my door swinging it open, stepping inside quickly. I slammed it shut as hard as I could only to watch it bounce back open. I couldn't even storm off and slam a door right tonight.

"Good night Josephine," Owen called out as he fired up his motorcycle.

"Screw you Owen!" I yelled through the half open door. I gauged my maturity level to currently to be around that of a toddler at the moment. I was having an outright temper tantrum, and not real successfully either. I finally got the door closed, cut the lights, and retreated to my bedroom. I'd aim for a higher maturity standard tomorrow. Maybe.


	8. Chapter 8

Another night, another fucked up dream. If it wasn't the hostage situation it was something from Iraq. My doctors prescribed Ambien to help a while back, but that stuff was more potent than street drugs. I took one pill while waiting for macaroni and cheese to boil one night, and woke up passed out on my kitchen floor nine hours later. I was lucky I hadn't burned my apartment down.

Dressed and ready for another run I set out on a similar path I had followed since my arrival. It was still early, especially for a Saturday, but I loved the solitude, the tranquility. I ran until the beach curved around, ending in a rock jetty that extended out into the water. I stood there for a few minutes watching the ocean waves break against the jetty, catching my breath before turning around to head back home. According to my Nike app the whole route was a little over five miles.

I was passing by Owen's bungalow when I noticed him outside standing at the railing, sipping a cup of coffee. He smiled and waved like the friendly neighbor he most certainly was not. I shot him the finger in return and kept running.

Since today was my first official day off since arriving on the island I decided to use the time wisely. After showering, shaving my lady bits and shimmying into a two-piece bikini, I scarfed down a bowl of Lucky Charms standing over the sink while filling up my travel coffee mug. I intended to spend today lounging on the beach, sun bathing, and reading cheesy romance novels with half naked Highlanders on the cover. Did I know how to have a good time or what?

I had been set up on the beach with my chair, coffee, cooler and Kindle for about an hour when Owen plopped down next to me in a chair. He was sporting another set of board shorts, in an appropriate setting this time, with no shirt. I had imagined what Owen's physique looked like a couple hundred (thousand) times, and had always assumed my imagination was fairly reliable. I mean, I can imagine quite a bit. As it turns out my imagination needed an upgrade.

Owen's expansive, muscled, tan chest was dusted with light blonde hairs that had me licking my lips in response. Forget a six-pack; the man had a twelve pack that ended in a sexy V, which disappeared beneath his board shorts like a treasure map pointing directly to the promise land. And don't get me started on his arms or legs; it just wasn't fair or natural for someone to look this good. I was pretty sure I was panting like a dog in heat at this point. I did a quick check to make sure I wasn't actually drooling, and my tongue was securely inside my mouth.

"You know, the FDA says tanning is bad," he said casually, leaning back in his lawn chair with his long legs stretched out in front of him.

"So is a gun shot to the knee cap, but you seem content to take the risk so I'll do the same." See I could be mature if I needed to. "Don't you need to go walk a raptor or relieve someone of their virginity?"

"Not today, I'm off. Barry's taking care of the girls, and I'm fine here harassing you," he responded, closing his eyes and putting on sunglasses.

"There's about 10 miles of untouched beach either direction you look. Are you really planning on sitting right here?" From his lack of response or effort to move I gathered that yes, this was exactly where he planned on staying. "Whatever."

I turned back to my book, choosing to just ignore him. Easier said then done when a guy who could easily grace the cover of GQ magazine was sitting a foot away. I tried to focus on my book, but my half naked Highlanders just weren't cutting it anymore. I turned off my Kindle with a huff, glancing at Owen from behind my aviator sunglasses to find him looking utterly unaffected by my presence.

Well, that sucked. I mean, I'm a pretty realistic person and understand where my strengths and weaknesses fall. I know I'm not a Victoria Secret Supermodel, but I thought I was rocking my string bikini with some swagger. After hearing Owen's soft snore ring out beside me I came to the conclusion my swagger needed some work.

I've never been more excited to hear my cell phone ring on a day off as I was in that moment. It was close to eleven, and I wondered who was calling me of all people.

"Hello."

"Jo, thank god, I wasn't sure you'd answer." Well now I definitely wished I hadn't. "I need a favor."

"No," I answered, contemplating simply hanging up on Hamada.

"Just hear me out Jo. Please, I'm desperate." He was almost whining now.

"Is that Hamada?" Owen asked beside me. Apparently this man was not the least bit affected by my prowess in a bikini, but was ready for action now that Hamada was on the phone. My self-esteem was tanking, big time.

"No," I lied to Owen.

"Hey, was that Owen? You're together? That's great, I could use him too." Hamada sounded like he'd consumed one too many energy drinks today. "Can you two come to the training arena on site at the park? We were supposed to cover some hand-to-hand combat today, but the instructor called in sick with the flu."

"That sounds awful Hamada, but as you probably already know, today is Saturday. It's my day off and I know for a fact I don't have hand-to-hand training on my agenda for today." Owen was now leaning over in his chair trying to hear Hamada's side of the conversation. I glared at him, leaning in the opposite direction.

"Jo, help me out. These guys need work and I can't do this by myself. Can you ask Owen if he'll come too?"

"Owen says no and so do I. Besides, what makes you think…" I didn't get a chance to finish my sentence as my phone was snatched out of my hand.

"Hey Hamada, it's Owen. What's up man?" I was in an alternate universe. That was the only thing that could explain Owen thinking he could take my phone out of my hand, and have a conversation with his back to me. "Sure thing. Give us about an hour and we'll be there."

Owen hung up the phone, tossing it back to me. I let it hit the sand with a thud as I stood there with my fists clenched at my sides simmering with barely contained rage.

"Better get dressed; Hamada's expecting us within the hour. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want to conduct hand-to-hand training in that," he commented, pointing to my bathing suit.

Ouch. That stung a little. Was he insinuating me being around people in my bathing suit would be inappropriate? How bad did I actually look in this thing? I was tempted to stay in my bikini just to prove a point, but having my chest and ass half hanging out around a bunch of horny InGen recruits was less than appealing.

I took a step forward, invading his personal space, tipping my head back so I could see his face. I was ready to tear him a new one, but lost all rational thought when he closed the distance between us by taking a step forward. I swallowed a lump in my throat trying to hold tight to my anger like an anchor, but with him this close I was having a problem converting oxygen into carbon dioxide.

The hitch in his breathing told me he wasn't as unaffected by me as he appeared. I thanked my inner goddess for not completely abandoning me in my time of need. Apparently that slacker decided to go find my swagger after all.

"Get dressed Jo. We got a class to teach." Owen stepped around me, collecting his belongings from the beach heading towards his bungalow.

Great, I went from having a lazy day off at the beach reading Highlander smut to teaching hand-to-hand combat to InGen rejects with Owen. I stomped my foot like a child to express my displeasure, but no one was there to see it. This sucked.

I went inside throwing on a pair of long spandex pants that ended just below my knee, a sports bra and a tight, long sleeved Under Armor shirt. I threw my long hair into a bun on top of my head. If I really was going to be taking my ninja skills for a test drive my hair whipping around was a definite no-no.

I heard a horn honk outside as I stuffed my feet into my running shoes. I grabbed my Camelback on the way out descending the stairs towards Owen who was waiting in his Jeep.

"Didn't know you knew how to drive anything other than your bike." I'll be completely honest, I knew how much it pissed off motorcycle people when you called their motorcycle a bike. I wanted payback for Owen ruining my day.

"Motorcycle. A bike is something a kid rides." Ooh, someone had a stick up their ass when it came to their bike. Button successfully pushed. "Besides, if you want wrap your arms around my waist we don't need a motorcycle to do that."

The temperature in the Jeep ratcheted up about a million degrees, and I adjusted my air vent. Holy frijoles this man was lethal. "Just drive." He flashed me his 100-watt smile as he pulled out onto the dirt road heading towards the park.

We got to the park in about five minutes because Owen drives like a lunatic. As he parked, I pried my hand away from the 'oh shit' bar to climb out of the Jeep. I swallowed a lump in my throat, trying to keep my breakfast in my stomach instead of on Main Street.

"Doesn't bat an eyelash at a raptor, but loses her breakfast from a car ride. Interesting," he mused, walking past me towards headquarters.

"You drive like a demented Ms. Daisy! Your license should be revoked." I wanted to hurt him. Maybe hand-to-hand training wouldn't suck after all.

As we walked side-by-side towards the entrance Owen offered a 'hello' or a 'how ya doing' to just about everyone we passed. He knew everyone, and what was even more annoying was everyone knew him. He was probably voted Homecoming and Prom King too. I was suspended from school during my Homecoming, and because of that all the boys were too scared to ask me out to prom. At least, I hoped that was the reason.

We walked onto the elevator and Owen pressed the 'B' for basement. The elevator, once again, refused to move without a card swipe. Owen looked to me expectantly as I whipped out my ID scanning it.

"Mr. Grady doesn't have authorization to enter the basement?" I taunted sarcastically, covering my mouth at the scandalous implication.

"Of course I do, I just wanted to know if you did."

What a dick.

"You seem pretty popular around here," I remarked as we descended into the basement.

"Jealous."

Yes. "Hardly."

Thankfully the ride was short. We stepped off the elevator, and I followed behind Owen who apparently knew exactly where we needed to go. We weaved around all the supply cages before coming to a stop at a large open area.

The "training arena" was stocked with exercise equipment, weights, and even a little indoor obstacle course. The center was lined with mats which were currently occupied by about 20 InGen employees stretching in various groups.

"Wow, this place is better than 24 Hour Fitness," I commented in awe, taking in all the bells and whistles.

Hamada jogged up to us looking relieved we were finally there. I wondered how long these guys had been stretching.

"Thanks for doing this guys. I really appreciate," Hamada said, offering his hand to Owen.

"I missed the part where there was a choice," I huffed, folding my arms over my chest.

"Ignore her. What's the plan?" I really hopped the plan involved me kicking Owen's ass because that was a plan I could get on board with.

Hamada turned, and we all started walking towards the mats. I stopped at the edge, kicking off my shoes and placing my socks inside, Owen doing the same.

"I'm going to use you two to demonstrate several offensive and defensive maneuvers by the numbers while I explain it as we go," Hamada explained, glancing between Owen and me. "We'll then break them up into teams to practice with us monitoring and calling out adjustments as needed."

"Works for me. The faster we get going the faster I can get out of here," I said, shrugging.

Owen nodded and Hamada called the group together. The 20 InGen employees filled into two lines standing in front of Hamada, Owen, and myself. I recognized almost all of them from their files, and internally cringed when I saw more than a few I had told Hamada needed to go.

"Alright everyone knock it off, we're ready to get started. We are going to cover some basic and advanced hand-to-hand moves today. Owen Grady and Josephine King are going to assist." Hamada pointed over to us as he spoke. "Owen is former Navy and current trainer for the Velociraptor program."

I mentally high fived myself, I knew he was Navy. Everyone in the room looked impressed by Owen's resume and general overall demeanor. The man's persona inspired a fan girl reaction in almost everyone.

"Jo is former Army and F.B.I., and is overseeing security at the park. Listen to what they have to say because they know what they're doing," Hamada finished.

Owen was looking at me expectantly. We hadn't exactly exchanged war stories, and he seemed surprised to hear about my background. The look he was giving me definitely said "we will talk about this later". I smiled brightly at him, walking to the center of the mat.

Hamada began outlining some basic defensive tactics as Owen played offense to my defense in time with the explanations. I was trying really hard to concentrate on Hamada, and not the fact that Owen's hands were roaming all over my body. It was easier said than done when every time he touched me I swear I felt a sizzle on my skin. This was a special brand of torture. Owen knew how to move his body. I couldn't help but admire his brute strength coupled with flawless technique. I was biting the inside of my cheek so hard I was probably drawing blood trying _not_ to think about all his "other" moves. Change the context of our positions from combat to sex and you'd have a rated R movie in a hurry. I said a quick thanks to anyone that was listening once Hamada broke the guys into groups so they could run through the maneuvers.

I made my way around the mats watching and correcting as I went. I stopped a few feet away from a pair who were obviously struggling. One guy appeared to have no training whatsoever while the other was insane arsonist who lived in his mother's basement.

Cole Rogers was about 5'11'' and built like a linebacker. He had no idea what he was doing, but since he was crazy and his opponent was clueless, he was pummeling him. Not the point of this exercise at all, but Cole didn't seem to care. He wasn't even pretending to attempt the moves Hamada had outlined. He just wanted to inflict damage on his partner. Why InGen hadn't drop kicked this guy off the island was troublesome. Apparently they valued brute strength and insanity over skill and good judgment.

Thankfully, the ass kicking was put to a stop as Hamada called the group together to go over yet another technique. This time I found myself standing with my back to Owen as he wrapped his large arm around my throat, hooking it under my chin. We were both sweating pretty good by this point, and I was acutely aware of how his sweaty, muscular body pressed up against mine.

My inner slut was panting with her tongue hanging out begging me to jump his bones right here in front of everyone just to put her out of her misery. I ignored her rampage, instead focusing on Hamada outlining how I was going to break the chokehold I was currently in.

"Just let me know if you need me to ease up here OK," Owen purred into my ear, pulling back against my throat with his arm. Every single inch of his body was firmly pressed into my back rendering me immobile. My hands were wrapped around his forearms trying to create space for my airway. Our height difference forced me to rise onto my tiptoes.

I felt a shiver rush down my spine as his deep, gravely voice washed over me. My inner slut had passed out from lack of oxygen at this point. I felt the smug bastard smiling at my reaction. Oh, it was on like Donkey Kong.

As soon as Hamada finished his explanation of how I was going to escape the chokehold I whirled into action. Fuck taking this one by the numbers. I slammed my heel down onto Owen's foot while simultaneously dropping down to lower my center of gravity. I rammed my right elbow hard into his abs, and had to suppress a groan of pain. I was convinced it may have hurt me more than it hurt him. Screw Owen and his eight minute abs of steel.

The reaction from Owen was immediate. He let out an "Ompf" as he lifted his right foot up, his body hunching over as he struggled to regain his breath. His arms loosened against my neck just enough that I was able to twist and duck releasing myself from his hold. His mind seemed to be catching up with his body now as he lunged for me with his left hand. I sidestepped his advance, using his momentum against him as I grabbed his outstretched hand, twisting it over my head as I dropped down to one knee.

Owen flipped over, landing on his back with a loud slap on the mat. The entire gym was so quiet you could've heard a mouse pissing on a cotton ball at 50 meters. I stood up walking over to where Owen was still laid out on the mat.

"Let me know if you need any help getting up, OK."

Hamada cleared his throat, hollering for everyone to pair up and get to work. I walked over to the side of the mats, retrieving a water bottle.

"That was mean," Owen said, grabbing a bottle of his own.

"You deserved it."

I walked off, making the rounds through the gym instructing. I was halfway around the room when I saw Cole struggling to break the chokehold he was in. I stopped in front of the pair, showing Cole his error by adjusting his hands and body.

"You are one fine piece of ass sugar. Let me know if you want a private session." It was official, I just threw up in my mouth. On the bright side, it looked like I was going to get to kick someone's ass today after all.

I stopped pivoting on my heel to face him. "What did you just say?"

Cole stopped sparring, standing directly in front of me leering. "I was just saying that if you ever want to blow off some steam I got about eight inches in my pants you can start with sweetheart."

Eight inches, yea, OK. Was this guy for real? In my experience men who felt the need to call out their measurements were normally suffering from pencil dick syndrome. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Owen abruptly stop what he was doing, making his way over to us. He looked mad enough to kill. I turned to leave; any man who lived in his mother's basement wasn't worth my time.

In my peripheral vision I saw Cole reach out to slap my ass. I spun around grabbing his hand where his thumb connected with his hand at a pressure point. I pressed as hard as I could on the pressure point, twisting his arm up and back.

He fell to his knees crying out, "You bitch! Let me go!"

I released his hand stepping back just as Owen planted himself in front of me bearing down on Cole like death himself. I could barely see Cole from behind Owen's broad back, but he was still yelling and screaming like a little girl.

"I suggest you calm down," Owen whispered at Cole, every muscle in his body taut and ready to spring into action if provoked. I had never heard anyone's whisper sound so menacing. It was scary. I took an involuntary step back.

"You landed a lucky shot. I guarantee you in a fair fight I would smoke your ass," Cole yelled, pointing at me. Owen made a move towards Cole, and I got the distinct impression this was spiraling out of control. Fast.

Officially done hiding behind Owen I moved forward, stopping next to him.

"You think you can take me Cole? Prove it."

* * *

 **Wowzers, the reviews are off the chain...I'm glad someone besides my kids like the story.**

 **Saint-Brooke-Lynn: Jo lives on the struggle bus so I'm sure we will find out more about all that in due time. Hope you liked Owen having to pay up :)**

 **Nik: Thanks! I love this story too.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: First off, much props on the user name...it's legit. Thanks for the review. Jo says the stuff out loud I only think in my head. Getting it on paper is like therapy for me except much cheaper.**

 **PadawnCassy: I totally agree...those two crazy kids make me smile.**

 **Mystery Guest #1: It's scary if Jo is the only voice of reason, right? Thanks for reviewing!**

 **Mzfeebs: Thank you very much!**

 **DarkFireAngel00: I love me some sexual tension, glad I'm not the only one :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Let's get ready to rumble!**

* * *

As far as bad idea's go I didn't think this one even made my top 10. By the way Owen was taping my knuckles and throwing on my MMA style grappling gloves it ranked somewhat higher on his.

"Do you have any self-preservation instincts?" Owen spit at me, stepping back as I flexed my fingers in the gloves a few times, bouncing up and down on my toes to get loose.

"Not really."

"That guy is unhinged and has about 60 pounds on you."

True. "If this is your idea of a pep talk I gotta tell you, it needs work."

Owen grabbed me by my shoulders almost shaking me. "Goddamnit Jo, this isn't a joke."

I shook out of Owen's hold, narrowing my eyes. "I know this isn't a joke. That guy is batshit crazy, believe me, I know. He shouldn't even be on this island, but I can handle myself."

Hamada jogged up, glancing back and forth between us. "Jo, you don't have to do this. I'm pretty sure with Rogers' behavior today I have enough of finally give him his walking papers."

"Not you too Hamada. Does anyone think I can win this fight?" I asked both of them, throwing my arms in the air. "You aren't giving this guy his walking paper's Hamada, I am. I don't care what goes down, don't' stop this fight," I said with venom in my voice, pointing at him as I walked towards the center of the mat.

Cole was already there bouncing around like a teenager who forgot to take his Ritalin. What a stereotypical jackass. The remaining men had formed a circle around the outside of the mat making this whole thing a little too Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome than was probably necessary. I even heard people placing bets.

Hamada stood between Cole and I vaguely outlining the "rules" for this little endeavor. I'm pretty sure the only real rule was no killing. Hamada stepped back off the mat essentially giving us the go ahead, and Cole immediately charged me like a raging bull. He reared his right hand back intending to deliver a punishing knockout blow to the side of my head. I quickly ducked under his attempt, stepping to the side, slamming my fist into his kidney as he passed.

He pivoted around, turning to face me with murder in his eyes before coming at me again. The guy had no technique and had clearly watched too much UFC, but he was pissed. He unleashed a barrage of sloppy lefts and rights that I dodged and countered connecting with his face and body. Cole had the edge on me in sheer strength, but fighting had little to do with strength. The stress of carrying his massive frame around the mat attempting to kill me was tiring him out. I danced around him, avoiding his strikes, forcing him to chase me. I knew I was quicker, in better shape, and had more skill, but I didn't want him landing a lucky punch and taking me down. Even a blind hog can find a root now and then.

I knew fatigue was setting in when his hands dropped lower and lower from a defensible position, exposing his face to attack. Still, I waited. Continuing to dance around him, coming close enough to pummel him only to slip away before he could retaliate. It was an intricate dance I was intimately familiar with, and I knew I had the upper hand. I was enjoying myself at this point. Cole was a complete asshole and needed to be brought down a notch or two.

I waited until his hands slipped down to chest height before I dashed towards him, letting loose two quick, left handed jabs to his midsection. He made an instinctive move to protect his body, dropping his hands down even lower from his face. Wrong move Sonny. I reared back, using all my strength as I swung my right fist, delivering a wicked uppercut that sent him stumbling back. Dazed, he tripped, falling onto his ass then his back with a whack.

Panting, I walked over, peering down at him. He was lying on the mat his face covered in blood, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. Assuming this was the end of the fight I offered him my hand as a truce. He debated it for a few seconds before reaching up to take it. I backed up, using my momentum to hoist him onto his feet. As soon as he was upright he swung a brutal right hook that connected with the side of my face right below my eye.

I heard Owen roar in the background as I went down hard on the mats, stars dancing before my eyes. Cole wasted no time jumping on top of me, raining down blow after blow. I brought my forearms up covering my face and head as best I could, but it left my midsection exposed. Unable to inflict any real damage to my face he moved to my body, punishing my ribs with blow after blow. Cole's onslaught continued as I desperately ran through my limited options while trying to breathe.

His legs were on either side of my chest, pinning me down and rendering my upper body immobile. While the top portion of my body was essentially useless I could still move my legs. He assumed simply because he outweighed me and he was on top of me he had the upper hand. Rookie mistake. Cole slammed a hammer fist into my mouth, and I felt my teeth cut into my lip releasing a gush of blood down my chin. OK, playtime was officially over. I needed out of this position, now.

I opened my legs, propping my right foot firmly on the ground as close to my own hip as I could. I planted my left foot on Cole's upper thigh as I bucked my hips backwards to create more space. This assclown was so consumed with bloodlust from pummeling my face he didn't notice my attempts to dislodge him. I needed to be fast and efficient for this to work. Taking a deep breath, I ran through the maneuver in my head, willing myself to stay calm. In one shift motion I used the foot positioned against his hip to push back as hard as I could. He was immediately dislodged from my chest, pitching backwards, his eyes wide with shock.

Now out of his guard I acted quickly by grabbing his right forearm as he reached for my shirt attempting to restrain me. In a half crouched position I rolled to the side keeping hold of his forearm as I pinned his arm between my legs. I firmly planted my legs over his chest as he struggled on his back with my right thigh just below his chin, securing him in an arm bar submission as I held on for dear life. I leaned backwards almost laying my back on the mat, his arm firmly in my grasp using his chest as a fulcrum. I arched my hips up, pulling his arm to my chest more than ready to end this party.

I could hear the roar of the crowd telling Cole to tap out. I stopped moving, but kept him pinned.

"Tap out Cole. It's over," I strained.

"Go to hell you mother fucker."

No problem.

I arched my hips up as far as I could while simultaneously leaning back with his arm. I felt the pressure building in his joint as I pulled back, straining towards the mat. Cole convulsed violently just before I heard an audible snap as the tendons and ligaments tore free in his elbow dislodging the joint. He let out a gut-wrenching scream and I released him, rolling to the side, putting distance between us. A doctor rushed forward attempting to immobilize Cole's now shattered elbow. Where he had come from was anyone's guess. Cole was cradling his arm, hurling obscenities in my direction as two men carried him out of the gym, the doctor trailing in their wake.

I lay on my back, breathing hard as I gingerly touched my cheek and lip. Suddenly, I was hauled onto my feet by Owen who placed his hands gently on either side of my face. He slowly turned me left then right, examining every inch of my face with a tortured expression, his mouth set in a hard line. His hands ghosted over every cut and bruise with a barely there touch.

He looked at me hard in the eye before barley whispering, "That was the hardest thing I've ever had to watch."

"I thought I did pretty well all things considered," I shrugged. He didn't laugh, didn't even smile. He looked like he was in physical pain.

I rested my gloved hands on his chest looking at him speaking quietly, "I'm OK Owen." He seemed to physically relax at my reassurance, slowly tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear before dropping his hands to his side. Hamada jogged over joining us.

"Jesus Jo, I forgot how terrifying you could be." I smiled in return as Owen methodically started tearing off my gloves and hand wraps. When he was done I pressed my hand against my mouth wiping away blood. Ouch, I bet I looked really hot right now. I wanted to go home. I could feel a headache building behind my eyes, and I needed to ice my face.

"I'll wait for you at the car?" I asked Owen who nodded. "I want my money," I told Hamada as I walked off the mats. The crowd of InGen employees parted like the Red Sea as I stopped to pick up my shoes before walking out of the training arena.

Back at the car I had my feet on the dash with my eyes closed waiting for Owen. I heard the automatic doors whoosh open, and saw him walking briskly out of the building, stopping to throw something in the backseat before climbing in. He started the engine, but didn't immediately pull out.

"Here," he said, handing me a wad of cash. "You earned it."

I took the money counting it out. $150 bucks wasn't too bad for one day's work. Plus, Cole Rogers was officially off Isla Nublar, score!

On second though. "Did anyone bet on me?" I was trying to not feel offended.

"I did," Owen replied, driving off.

"Technically as the fighter I'm entitled to a share of your winning, you know?" My heart speed up thinking about the fact that Owen bet on me to win. His faith in me seemed almost unshakeable. I was slightly pissed at Hamada, but I could address that at a later date.

He chose not to respond to my demand for payment, and we drove in companionable silence the rest of the way. I must have been more tired from kicking Cole's ass than I realized because before I knew it Owen was shaking me awake.

"Hey, we're here." I sat up looking around. I opened the door, gingerly stepping out while grabbing my bag from the backseat. I flinched at the movement. Probably I had some decent bruises just about everywhere.

"Well, thanks for lovely day. It was so much better than lounging around on the beach doing nothing." I waved goodbye moving slowly towards my house. I was trying to remember if I had any Motrin or if it would be better to just drink myself into a coma.

"Have dinner with me."

I froze. Come again? I turned around to face Owen who was now standing in front of his Jeep.

"Huh?" Smooth Jo.

He walked towards me, his hands deep in his pockets. "I asked if you would have dinner with me tonight. You know food, sustenance, something other than potato chips."

Maybe Cole hit me harder in the head than I thought because I just couldn't seem to understand the words coming out of Owen's mouth. Was he speaking English?

"You want to have dinner? With me? Tonight?" I wanted to make sure I understood all the parameters before I made my decision.

"Yes." OK, well this seemed like a horrible idea. Dinner alone with Owen at his bungalow of love. Yeah, this was absolutely without a doubt something I should _not_ do.

"Sure." I needed therapy.

"See you at seven o'clock. Make sure you put some ice on your face." I gave him a sarcastic head nod, and considering even that hurt I was unlikely to forget the ice.

After icing my entire body for the better part of the day I was standing in front of my bathroom mirror debating if makeup would help or just accentuate my cuts and bruises. I had a pretty impressive shiner forming around my right eye, but thankfully I could still see out of it. The left side of my lip was cut just a little, and my torso was littered with red welts from Cole's fists. Not the worst I'd ever had, but definitely not ideal for a date.

If this was a date. I couldn't really be sure. I mean, he had asked me to have dinner with him alone at his house, which sounded like a date. On the other hand, he most likely just felt responsible for my face looking like I had been hit by a baseball bat, which sounded not so much like a date.

I couldn't decide if this was a date or not, but I knew that makeup wasn't worth my time. I kept my hair down hoping to use it as a shield. It was falling around my shoulders and down my back in loose messy waves. I had on a pair of PacSun shorts paired with a T-shirt that had ' _I'm a love not a fighter_ ' displayed prominently across the front. I found it was ironic, if not hilarious, considering my current circumstances.

Right at seven o'clock I started the walk over to Owen's. Date or no date I was still nervous. I stopped and then started walking again about 10 times during the 300-yard journey. I really hoped he wasn't looking out his window. As I got closer I saw he was out on his porch standing in front of the grill. He was wearing a pair of tan cargo shorts with an untucked, short-sleeved, button down shirt on, and no shoes. I mentally swooned. It should be illegally to look that good wearing something so normal and with seemingly no effort.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to make it over here."

I'm such a loser. "Well, I'm here. What's on the menu?" I had planned on eating blueberry Nutri-Grain bars with potato chips so I really didn't care.

"I'm just finishing up with the steaks. I already have the salad, bread and homemade macaroni and cheese on the table. Hope that's OK?"

I just had a food orgasm. "Yeah, that sounds delicious," I said as I made my way onto the porch. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Nah, I got it. Just take a seat and pour yourself some wine if you want."

I sat down at the table pouring a glass of red wine for both of us. The table was already set and everything smelled delicious. I had to sit on my hands to keep from tearing off a chunk of bread while I waited. Owen grabbed two steaks off the grill, setting them on plates before making his way to the table. He set one in front of me, taking a seat across the table.

"Did you make all of this?" I could microwave stuff pretty well (most of the time) and I made a mean sandwich, but this set up was way beyond my skill level.

"Yeah, but don't be too impressed. It's just steak and salad. Now, the macaroni and cheese is another story. That's my mom's recipe." He smiled at the mention of his mother. "Go ahead, dig in."

Racers start your engines. I spooned out a healthy dose of macaroni and cheese before grabbing two slices of bread. I poured a light coating of Ranch dressing onto my salad, and was salivating as I cut into my perfectly cooked, medium steak. I had taken at least four bites before I realized I was the only one eating. I glanced up at Owen from beneath my lashes to see him watching me with a huge grin on his face.

"Were you not serious when you said it was time to eat?" I placed my silverware back on the table, dropping my head as I awaited his answer.

Instantly, I was transported back in time to when I was 6 years-old. I had been living with a foster dad for about six months who was very fond of "games". He was the type of foster parent who was in it for the paycheck and added benefit of beating a kid. He had no interest in the well-being of the children the state placed in his home.

His favorite game was placing a various assortment of food on the kitchen table, and telling us all to grab whatever we wanted. I was one of the youngest kids in his house at the time, and was too naive to understand the intricacies of his malevolence. I would grab anything I could get my hands on because with this guy you never knew when you'd get your next meal, but before I could make a clean getaway he'd explode in a fit of rage. Apparently there were acceptable and unacceptable items on the table, but since he never defined the rules of this twisted game I always guessed wrong, and usually ended up paying the price.

Owen sensed the change in my demeanor, reaching across the table lifting my chin with his fingers so he could look at me. "I'm sorry Jo. Yes, please eat. I wasn't, I just...the women I've shared meals with normally just push their food around the plate while they prattle on about some diet. It's refreshing to see someone actually eating, especially since I slaved over this all afternoon."

I smiled at him tentatively before picking up my utensils. He was already eating his own food so I shook off my flashback, and resumed eating. We settled into a steady rhythm of conversation as we enjoyed the meal and the beautiful atmosphere.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" I asked him, sipping my wine.

"I do. I have an older brother, Tom. He's married and they have two boys." He seemed to light up talking about his family. It didn't matter if it was his mom, dad, brother or nephews he loved talking about them. Happy was the word that came to mind. That must be what you feel like all the time when you grow up surrounded by a loving family

"How do they feel about you working here?" I imagined any family would have their reservation about their loved one working at Jurassic World.

He leaned back in his seat with his wine in his hand. "Oh, they had some questions that's for sure, but their supportive. I spent a good amount of time in the Navy doing some crazy stuff so they're kinda use to my unusual lifestyle choices."

I grinned back at him; I could only imagine the havoc Owen had stirred up in the Navy. There probably wasn't a port in the world that had been safe from him.

"What about you? Is your family terrified knowing you work with dinosaurs?" he asked, genuinely interested in my response.

I ran my hands through my hair, looking anywhere but Owen to buy me some time. Did I really want to open myself up to this man, and tell him my sordid history? I rarely, if ever, spoke about my upbringing. Or lack thereof. Only my social worker knew all the details, and even some of those were left out of my file.

"Um...well, no, not really," I said, looking away from him.

"Care to elaborate?" He leaned forward in his chair, placing his wine glass on the table.

Fuck it. "I mean I don't have any family so I don't have to worry about anyone not liking the idea of me being here." Just like ripping off an emotional Band-Aid. I looked down at my lap rolling my eyes.

"You have no family?" He placed his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together in front of him. "Hey, talk to me."

The pleading in his voice made me look at him. I was expecting to see pity in his eyes, but all I saw was a need to understand. I took a sip of wine and decided to lay it all out there.

"No, I have no family. I was orphaned at birth and grew up in the foster care system in Houston. I aged out when I was 18, and had to do something to get off the street so I put myself through college by joining ROTC, eventually serving in the Army. When I was done with that the F.B.I. came calling." I said it all in one rushed breath, gulping down some wine when I was done. There, that wasn't so hard. All those therapists from years past who said I couldn't express my feelings could kiss my ass.

"You're amazing," he told me, looking at me like he was seeing me for the first time.

Huh? Had he misheard me? I can honestly say no one had ever had that response to my tragic Lifetime Movie worthy life.

"Thank you," I stumbled over the words.

"So, you were holding out on me." I was glad he decided to leave the whole damaged childhood alone. "Former Army and F.B.I., I guess you really are a little G.I. Jane."

"First of all, I'm not a little anything." How this man managed to go from making me melt to making my blood boil in the span of a few seconds was infuriating.

"Calm down hero, I was just surprised today when Hamada mentioned it. I think it's pretty cool, actually."

"That's because I am cool," was my witty reply. He was grinning now and I found myself returning the gesture.

We talked for hours, sitting on his porch about everything from our military service to our work here at the park. Owen stayed tactfully away from anything regarding my childhood, and I was forever grateful. Maybe someday I could tell him the whole story, but not tonight. It was something that I was even considering confided in him since I'd never had that feeling before. There was just something about Owen that put me at ease. Even though we hadn't known each other long I knew I could trust him. I knew that he cared about me, and would keep whatever I told him in confidence.

Throughout the night there was never a lull in the conversation or that awkward silence that always seems to accompany a first date. It was easy, refreshing, and an absolute blast. It was close to midnight when we finally decided it was time to call it a night. My face was hurting and I was exhausted. Owen walked me to the edge of his property where we stopped.

"I had a great time tonight Owen, thanks," I said genuinely.

"How's your face feeling?" He was studying each and every mark littered across my face.

"It's not as bad as it looks. Nothing some Motrin and a bag of frozen peas can't fix" I said, trying to lighten the mood. I could see on his face he blamed himself even though challenging Cole to a death match was my idea.

"If I never have to watch you take a beating like that again it will be too soon," Owen whispered, taking a step closer.

I sucked in a breath as he stood in front of me, the scent of his soap washing over me. "I think I did most of the beating thank you very much."

"That you did Josephine."

Before I could respond he leaned forward, his lips brushing softly against mine. He gently placed his hands on my hips pulling me flush against him. I could feel the stubble from his beard and his heartbeat under the palms of my hands that had somehow found their way to his chest. His body was a marvel of muscle, and I had to tilt my head back to accommodate our height difference. I'm a tall woman, but Owen towered over me. I'd heard woman talk about loving how they felt small next to a tall, muscular, broad shouldered man, and had always scoffed. Why would I ever want to feel small in comparison? As Owen wrapped me in his arms, I found the answer.

The kiss was gentle, almost reverent. He was trying not to hurt me because I had gone all Fight Club earlier in the day. I didn't give a crap about my injuries right now. The feeling of Owen's lips on mine, and his body pressed into me had me spinning out of control. His unique smell of something spicy and the jungle was overwhelming was so intense I felt lightheaded.

But as quickly as it started it was over as Owen pulled away stepping back, instantly stiff, unable to look at me. I felt a sudden, unexplained loss. He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, uttering an awkward goodnight as he turned to leave.

I stood there, staring at his retreating back wondering what the hell just happened?

* * *

 **Mystery Guest: Ask and you shall receive...thanks for reviewing!**

 **DarkFireAngel00: He got some cheap shots in, but I'd say mission accomplished.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I have officially decided I need a desert vulpe...I just can't with the ears. Hope Jo's ass whooping was sufficient.**

 **angelicedg: Wow, one sitting. Props! I'm not 100% sure this is what you meant by face claim, but I'll give it a shot. Jo isn't based on anyone in real life, rather I just have a picture of her in my warped mind. If that's not what you meant feel free to school me.**

 **Deathcutie20: Thank you very much!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A chapter to help bring you out of your post Halloween candy coma...enjoy!**

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As it turns out it's incredible easy to avoid someone, even on an island. I hadn't seen or spoken to Owen since the night of our date or not a date. I had decided if I didn't see him for the foreseeable future that would suit me just fine. As much as I hated to admit it his behavior hurt me. I couldn't figure out why he would kiss me, albeit briefly, then just walk away. Was I really so bad at kissing he felt the need to avoid me? Maybe the whole night was just supposed to be a pity party because I looked like I had gone a few rounds with Holyfield, and it got out of hand. Whatever his reasons it only confirmed that putting yourself out there wasn't worth it. I had hoped Owen would be different. The ache in my heart said different.

After I got over being hurt I got pissed. This asshole wanted to wine, dine and kiss me then act like I had fallen off the face of the planet? Well, two could play at that game. I had a PhD in avoidance. I felt like a moron for actually believing for two seconds he was interested in me. I should know by now that no one was interested in damaged goods.

To be honest, I wasn't sure if I was avoiding him or the other way around, but it had been almost a month since I'd seen him. Which is why I found my current predicament so shitty.

Simon had called me in to his office for an update on everything I had been doing the last few weeks. He specifically wanted my take on the raptor program. Considering I'd only visited the raptor paddock once, for about 10 minutes, I was limited with my insight. After listening to me repeat the same observations 10 different ways he told me, in no uncertain terms, to get my ass out to the paddock, today. Which was why I was currently sitting in my Jeep outside the raptor paddock, banging my head against the steering wheel.

"Are you going to get out or just stay here all day?" Barry asked, casually leaning against my window.

"I don't know. Maybe stay here all day. I haven't decided."

"Owen isn't here right now." How he knew my behavior had anything to do with Owen made me queasy.

I hopped out of the Jeep, striding towards the paddock. "Alright then, let's get this show on the road." Barry laughed as he followed me.

The raptors were out of containment, roaming around the paddock freely. They had gotten so much bigger since the last time I'd seen them. My feet moved involuntarily to the metal stairs that would take me up to the catwalk crisscrossing above the paddock. Once there I saw the raptors bounding back and forth across the paddock, nipping, growling, and chirping at each other while they interacted. They moved with such fierce precision. These girls were stone cold killers. They were amazing.

"Do they always communicate like that?" I asked Barry, leaning over the railing to get a better look at the girls. He nodded, assuming a similar position to my right. Man, these raptors were something else. I could watch them all day.

Watching the girls had my mind involuntarily wandering to Owen. I finally realized what was bothering me so much about this whole scenario. That piece of crap had me doubting my game. It was driving me insane. I was a sexy, desirable woman who any man would love to date. Right?

I looked over at Barry who hadn't taken his eyes off the raptors, the perfect solution to this problem suddenly clear. I turned towards him, squaring my shoulders while leaning against the railing, "Barry, you'd date me right?"

Barry immediately turned to face me, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. He took a step away from me muttering something under his breath in French. Well, this wasn't good.

"I...I have a girlfriend Jo," he stuttered, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Oh for fuck's sake Barry, I'm not suggesting we go at it right here on the catwalk. I'm simply asking, hypothetically speaking, if you'd date me?"

He shook his head furiously back and forth in the universal sign for no. "I like all my limbs attached to my body thank you very much."

What did that mean? I was getting ready to beat the answer out of him when I heard a harsh command barked behind me.

"Hey!" Owen yelled, clicking a device he held in his left hand. "Eyes up here." At first I thought he might be talking to Barry or me, but his gaze was locked on the raptors down below. So much for Owen not being here. I briefly debating slinking away, but what little pride I had left kept me firmly rooted in place.

I turned, watching the girls line up below, their predatory gazes locked on Owen like a tractor beam. Holy shit. They were waiting for his command. This was nothing short of a miracle. I heard a pig squeal in the background, and all four raptors went crazy chirping and growling.

"Hold," bellowed Owen from the catwalk. The raptors snarled in response clearly agitated. "Cut that shit out Blue. Delta lock it up."

The corresponding raptors responded by freezing, but were clearly displeased with the command. Charlie, Echo and Delta's gaze alternated between Owen and Blue. Clearly their loyalty was torn. Blue's deadly eyes never wavered from Owen. She was debating what to do. Owen froze on the catwalk staring Blue down, and I held my breath, scared to even blink. Right before Owen dropped his hand Blue squawked out a series of chirps that resulted in all four raptors taking off after the pig.

"Fuck!" Owen yelled, dropping his head, his hands braced on the railing. He was gripping the bars so tight his knuckles were turning white.

I glanced at Barry and we had a silent conversation which equated to both of us making ourselves scarce. Before we could escape down the catwalk, avoiding Owen's fury, a portly, middle-aged man with a goatee labored up the stairs. His hair was cut military short, but his stature told me his military days had long since passed. He was dressed like an L.L. Bean store had thrown up on him. Outfitted head to toe in tan. Tan pants, tan shirt, even tan boots. Whoever said monochromatic was a good look never saw this guy. I don't know if this guy ever had a "prime", but he was about 10 years and 60 pounds past it at this point. The buttons on his long sleeved shirt were straining against the girth in his middle. I felt the urge to don eye protection in case one of the buttons came tearing off endangering my eyesight. He lumbered towards, the catwalk shaking like a herd of elephants were charging.

"Hot damn boy, you almost had 'em that time." This was clearly directed at Owen. He bypassed both Barry and me without so much as a second glance.

"Not really Hoskins," Owen replied bitterly. Vic Hoskins, leader of InGen's private security force on the island, and by all accounts a real douchebag.

"Are you kidding me?! You had them almost eating out of your hand," Hoskins responded, slapping Owen on the back.

"You weren't supposed to be here until next week Hoskins," Barry chimed in clearly displeased with Hoskins early arrival. It was abundantly clear things were not all sunshine and roses between the InGen employees at this site. Then again, if this oxygen thief was my boss I'd look like I'd sucked on lemons too when I saw him.

Hoskins turned, taking in Barry and me for the first time. He ignored Barry completely as he focused his beady eyes on me, "Well, what do we have here?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, clearly conveying the message "you're kidding, right?". I glanced at Barry trying to decipher if this asshole was for real. I heard Owen's boots pound on the catwalk as he intercepted Hoskins before he could stop in front of me. Owen started rattling off random raptor facts to distract Hoskins as he walked him down the stairs. Barry and I followed behind at a slower pace. I fully intended to return to my Jeep and report to Simon that I had, in fact, visited the raptor paddock at least once this quarter. I was such a good employee; maybe I would be Employee of the Month.

I didn't get the chance to retreat as Hoskins rounded on me. His eyes narrowed as he snapped his fingers with enlightenment. "I know who you are now. You put one of my top recruits out of action a few weeks ago."

He sounded unhappy that Cole was currently stateside nursing three pins in his surgically repaired arm. I hated to break it to Hoskins, but if Cole was one of InGen's top recruits they were screwed. I gave him a little finger wave, smiling.

"Listen here honey, I pay a lot of money recruiting these guys and getting them here. I don't think it's funny that some washed up F.B.I. reject scored a lucky shot to take one out."

Yeah, now I needed to kick his ass merely on principle. I moved passed Barry, debating whether I should stab him or shoot him when Owen's arm shot out, wrapping around my waist. He picked me up off my feet as if I weighed no more than a sack of flour, firmly planting me behind him.

"I was there Hoskins, there were no lucky shots by Jo. Rogers is the one who fought dirty and still lost," Owen supplied. While I thought it was sweet Owen was defending me I didn't need his help. The guy hadn't said two words to me in a month. He could shove his chivalry where the sun didn't shine.

"Bullshit Grady, I've seen her file, no way she has chops to take down a highly trained operative." I burst out laughing behind Owen. Hoskins thought his InGen security forces were "highly trained operatives". Oh that was just too good.

Owen glanced at my disapprovingly over his shoulder before continuing. "I really don't have time to debate this shit Hoskins. Do you want to go over those report or not?"

Owen was already moving towards the office building. Hoskins paused briefly to rake his eyes up and down my body. Barry stiffened beside me, stepping forward in an attempt to shield Hoskins' gaze. I smirked at Hoskins as he walked off, his eyes still trained on me. He didn't stop looking until he reached the office. Owen stood holding the door open. He ushered Hoskins inside then met my eyes. He looked pained, haunted even. It was clear he wanted to say something, but something was holding him back. Smart money said it wasn't just the sleaze bag occupying his office. My heart sped up under his penetrating gaze. It was like he could look directly into my soul. I couldn't deal with this now or ever. He may be hot enough to be an Calvin Klein underwear model, but I was still pissed. I looked away first, turning my back on him. Taking a shaky breath I rolled my shoulders, eyeing Barry.

"Why is Hoskins so interested in the raptors obeying Owen's commands?" I asked.

"I don't know," he answered honestly.

I walked back to my Jeep, sitting inside with the engine off, drumming my thumb against the window sill. Vic Hoskins wasn't expected here until next week, but he had shown up early in a deliberate attempt to surprise Owen and Barry. He had a vested interest in the raptors following Owen's orders, but why? InGen's security division had exploded under Hoskins' leadership. Recently they had gained a partnership with the United Nations Security Council. He had an angle concerning the raptors otherwise he would be out visiting the Triceratops paddock. Men like Hoskins always had an angle. Since InGen security division was booming he must have the twisted notion he could use the raptors in some way. The real question was how many people would pay the price for his delusions?

Sighing I started the engine and headed home. If Vic Hoskins thought, for even a second, he could control the raptors I was not the craziest person on this island.

* * *

 **Deathcutie20: Thanks! Hope you liked the post date (or not a date) tension...LOL  
**

 **angelicedg: Nothing with Jo and Owen will ever be normal :) Don't worry, their dysfunction is what makes them great.**

 **Desert Vulpes Verda: Hello again friend :) They make me happy too!**

 **PadawanCassy: Thanks for the review. Claire will make her feelings known, eventually.**

 **xxyangxx2006: Thanks! Jo has plenty of guilt to go around. I'm sure this isn't the last we'll hear of it. Hope you enjoyed!**


	11. Chapter 11

Later that week I was sitting in Simon's office with Claire outlining exactly what happened at the raptor paddock. I had just finished explaining my belief that Hoskins, and by association InGen, were planning to use the raptors for some kind of military application. They both looked more than a little troubled by my hypothesis, as they should be. It was about time people starting taking this shit seriously.

Simon was sitting with his back to Claire and me starring out the window, deep in thought. Claire wasn't faring much better looking a little pale as she sat beside me. I thought I had done a better than average job of delivering the news with tact, but considering this reaction I could be wrong.

"Are you guys OK? Do you need me to get some water?" Maybe some kind of sedative?

Simon swiveled in his chair, placing his hands on his desk. "I understand your position Jo, but what you are proposing is outrageous. Do you really think Mr. Hoskins believes he can control a Velociraptor to such an extent?"

Hell. Fucking. Yes. That's exactly what I thought that psycho was thinking.

"Yes Simon, I do." See, I could be subtle if the situation called for it.

"Mr. Masrani, I think our best course of action at this point is to have Jo continue to monitor the situation. We don't have any proof they are doing anything outside the parameters of their contract," Claire said, typing furious notes on her phone.

Yes, that was one course of action. The plan in my head was more along the lines of kicking Vic Hoskins in the nuts then tossing him in the ocean. Simon seemed to agree with Claire, nodding his head as she finished outlining what appeared to be a five-year plan for dealing with Hoskins. This woman was so organized she probably had contingency plans for her contingency plans. I operated by more of a fly by the seat of your pants philosophy.

With everyone's future planned for the foreseeable future I stood, getting ready to leave when I heard the unmistakable sound of gunshots firing somewhere down the hall. Simon and Claire shot out of their seats their mouths hanging open, eyes wide. I pulled my Glock out of my leg holster moving quickly towards the door. I felt like I was living in a Navy SEAL commercial around this place, "the only easy day was yesterday".

"Claire, get your phone and get under the desk, call Hamada, tell him to get his ass up here now. Simon, once I walk out this door lock it. Do no open it until someone from ACU is on the other side." I had my back against the wall by the door with my Glock at the ready.

"Jo, are you sure this is a good idea? You should stay here while we wait for ACU to respond," Simon said, obviously panicked.

"This is why you brought me here Simon. I'll be fine," I told him in what I hoped was a reassuring voice. Hell, maybe trying to reassure myself a little too.

I nodded my head and Simon cracked the door open just enough for me to look up and down the hallway. Seeing no lunatic lurking directly behind the door I took one last look at Simon before stepping out. "Lock this door as soon as I'm out."

I heard two more shots coming from the lab to my left. The floor had erupted into chaos with screaming employees and alarms blaring. Keeping my Glock pointed in the direction the shots had originated I snagged my cell phone out of my left pocket. I dialed the control room where Lowery Cruthers answered immediately.

"Where the fuck is ACU Lowery?"

"Jo, I can't really talk now we kinda have a situation here." I rolled my eyes.

"No shit Sherlock, I'm in the middle of your situation. The shots came from the lab. I'm on my way now. Why hasn't ACU stormed this floor yet?"

"Someone hacked the controls for the elevator right before the shooting, the system's rebooting. Until it's back online no one's coming or going."

Jesus. "Are there not stairs in this building?"

"I'm guessing the same person who hacked the keypads on the doors locking them." Fuck a duck, this place was too advanced for its own good.

"This is a goat fuck. I'm at the lab. I'm going in, get some shit working and get me some backup," I barked, hanging up the phone, stopping against the wall by the entrance to the lab. I heard sobbing coming from inside. There was a body sprawled in the door face down. Someone had made a run for it when the shooting started, but hadn't made it out. I reached down, placing my fingers on their neck checking for a pulse. Nothing. I stood back up, bracing myself against the wall.

"My name is Jo King. Can you tell me who you are?" I shouted from my spot against the wall. A volley of gunshots responded, and I crouched down trying to make myself a smaller target.

"Stay back! I will kill you if you come in here!"

No kidding. "Listen, why don't you tell me what the problem is, maybe I can help?"

The shooter hesitated, "What we're doing here is wrong. It goes against the natural order of things. You can't play God!"

"I couldn't agree more. What's your name?" I needed to be able to step into that room without getting a bullet for my trouble. To do that, I needed to establish a semblance of trust with the shooter.

"Ryan, Ryan Lewis. If you think this is wrong why do you work here?"

I don't know guy, why do you work here?

"I was brought here to decide if the park should be shut down. There are people just like you who think this is a very bad idea. I'm here to find out exactly what is happening." Lying wasn't considered bad when it was for a good cause.

"They are messing with genetic code, DNA! Do you understand what I'm talking about?" No, not really. I barely passed high school science. DNA, genomes, genetic code, all of it was so far above my head I couldn't reach it with a ladder. As far as I was concerned how the created the dinosaurs was magic, plain and simple.

"I do Ryan. I do. What they're doing is inexcusable. Can I come into the lab?"

"OK, but keep your hands up where I can see them."

"Alright Ryan, I'm going to step into the doorway. I have a gun in my right hand, but I'm not going to use it. I just need it in case someone tries to stop us from talking. Do you understand?"

"Yes." Ryan was probably a genius, but he lacked a little bit when it came to common sense.

I stepped over the body lying in the door, entering the lab. I immediately saw two other bodies face down with pools of blood spreading out across the floor. Ryan was on the opposite side of the room, shaking violently, pointing a gun in my general direction.

"Hi Ryan, do you want to tell me what happened here?"

"I told you. They're playing God. Just mixing DNA to create whatever they want. You can't do that! You can't take those kinds of risks!" I agreed with Ryan, this sounded bad. However, shooting three people wasn't the best way to validate your point-of-view.

"You're right. Scientist shouldn't just create something without understanding the potential consequences." Ryan nodded his head in agreement, dropping his gun to his side. "I think you proved your point Ryan. They understand now. Why don't you hand me the gun?"

He looked up at me with tears streaming down his face. "I, I never wanted to hurt anyone. They just wouldn't listen."

"I know."

Ryan sobbed, taking a step towards me just as someone from the hallway shouted, "ACU, drop your weapons and get on the ground!"

Ryan's eyes widened, his arm twitching. "Ryan, don't do it. We can figure this out," I pleaded with him.

"No, we can't," he said dejectedly, raising his gun at me. I aimed my gun at Ryan, silently begging with him to put his gun down. I knew what he was doing, and I wanted no part of it. I pleaded with Ryan to drop the gun. I didn't want to do this, not again. When his finger wrapped around the trigger he took the choice out of my hands. If it came down to me or him it was always going to be him. I fired my weapon, putting two rounds center mass in his chest.

The momentum of the shots slammed him into the wall, his body sliding down to the floor leaving streaks of blood as he went. I bowed my head in defeat, putting my gun back in my holster. I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths before I pivoted on my heel, exiting the room and storming into the hallway.

"Who the fuck did that?! Who came in here yelling at a suspect without knowing the situation?!" I screamed, looking at each member of the ACU team. This is exactly why I told Hamada these guys shouldn't be here. They had no training, no experience, and it had resulted in a pretty large body count.

Hamada pushed his way to the front of the hallway taking in the scene.

"What happened Jo? Are you alright?" he questioned, looking me over for injuries. The concern in his eyes was touching, but I wasn't the one who needed fretting over.

"I'm fine. If you want to know what happened ask one of these assholes," was my rebuttal as I pointed to the ACU team. Pushing past them I made my way to the closest elevator I could find. If the fucking windows actually opened I would have considered fast-roping out of one to get away from this cluster. I saw Lowery hovering near the door in the control room. He made a move to walk over to me as I passed, but I held my hand up stopping him. I wasn't ready to talk to anyone. I needed time, space, and preferable an inanimate object to pound into oblivion.

I was glad to see the elevators were working again as I stepped on, slamming my palm against the button for the basement. I screamed as the door closed, kicking the side of the elevator in frustration. It was Houston all over again. People's lives on the line. Their fate in my hands, and I failed. When was I going to learn? I was a menace to anyone who had the misfortune of getting pulled into my gravitational force. It always ended in pain, misery, and eventually death for those who trusted me. Those who depended on me. Those I was supposed to save.

I found myself at the heavy bag in the training arena, punching and kicking away my rage. My knuckles were bleeding and my muscled ached, but I didn't stop. The pain was a reminder of the dead men upstairs. I deserved it and then some.

Over and over I replayed the events from the lab in my head looking for anything I could have done different. Could I have gotten to the lab faster, saving one of those scientists? I should have been able to talk Ryan down earlier so ACU would have been irrelevant. Why didn't I tell Lowery to make sure Hamada was with the ACU team before they got in that hallway? Rookie fucking mistakes. All of them. Here I was on my high horse about ACU not being qualified, but I was the loser in the corner with the dunce cap on. It appeared that failure was a part of my DNA.

"Are you OK?" I stopped, turning around to see Owen leaning against the wall behind me with a worried expression. And here I thought this day couldn't get any worse.

I turned back around, launching a violent combination of jabs and punches into the bag. "I'm fine." Maybe if I kept saying it I'd start believing it.

"You look fine."

"Better than the four dead people upstairs," I bit out, stopping to lean my head against the bag, breathing heavily. Sweat was pouring down my face, and my shirt was drenched. My body felt shaky and weak. I couldn't remember when I'd last eaten, had it been this morning or did I skip it? I may have been at this longer than I thought. My body was ready to shutdown either from lack of nourishment or plain old stress.

"One of them is going to pull through. Hamada told me before I came down," he told me.

Not Ryan. "That makes it better?" I growled at him.

"There was nothing else you could have done Jo." Owen moved to stand in front of me, imploring me with his eyes to believe him.

"You weren't there Owen. You don't know that." I wiped the blood from my knuckles on my pants, moving past Owen towards the door.

"You can't blame yourself for this. I know you; you'll let this haunt you." I stopped in the doorway, turning to face Owen. It had been so long since we'd occupied the same space for more than five seconds I had forgotten how overwhelming his presence could be. He looked tired, his eyes sad. His cargo pants, Henley shirt and vest looked wrinkled, like he'd slept in them. If I didn't know any better I'd say Owen wasn't fairing any better than I was with our separation. Good. I hoped he was hurting as bad as I was at the moment. I knew that made me a bitch, but I wasn't mature enough to care.

Standing so close to him made me want to revel in the comfort he was offering. Then I remembered the pain his actions had caused me. I remembered the sting in my chest as he'd walked away from me, clearly regretting his decision to kiss me. Yeah, Owen could suck it.

I took a deep breath pausing before walking out the door, "That's where you're wrong Owen. You don't know me."

* * *

 **xxyangxx2006: Thanks for the kind words...hope you enjoyed the latest installment. Hoskins is a hater, but don't worry I have a feeling he gets his in the end :)  
**

 **angelicedg: Vic is WAY out of his league...LOL!**

 **Mystery Guest #1: Hope you aren't too disappointed in the semi-confrontation...don't worry, I won't keep you hangin' for long.**

 **DarkFireAngel00: LOL...I love your review! I hope it's still killing you, but in a good way of course :) Have no fear, Jo's game will be on point.**

 **DragonKingDragneel25: Glad you are enjoying the story! Hoskins just never learns...poor guy.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I 100% agree...what a douche! Don't worry, a raptor isn't the only thing Hoskins need to be worried about with Jo on the island.**


	12. Chapter 12

**TGIF! Come on, come all...sit down, relax, and enjoy an adult beverage the weekend is here :)  
**

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If I had bothered to read the contract binding me to Masrani Global Corporation before I signed it I would have known that shooting someone came complete with an all-expenses paid trip to a shrink. After learning this tidbit of information I poured over the contract discovering that Claire was indeed correct in her order that I meet with the shrink they had flown in to psychoanalyze me. I lost my shit in her office when she delivered the news, but in my defense you shouldn't bury something that important on page 180, paragraph R, subsection 20.

"Ms. King, the events that occurred were a tragedy. It isn't unusual to experience nightmares, anger, guilt, emotional outbursts or difficulty maintaining relationships with others as a result. It's called Post-traumatic stress disorder or PTSD." She punctuated each letter with a point of her perfectly manicured finger.

This was so typical; my life was just a series of awkward and humiliating moments separated by snacks.

Dr. Morgan Price was a 50 something year-old psychiatrist flown in from California. She was an attractive older woman who wore her slightly graying hair pulled back in a loose bun with her glasses perched on the tip of her nose. She looked more like a librarian than a psychiatrist to me. For the last hour she had been trying to persuade me to "get in touch with my feelings". I wanted to tell her I'd rather take a spork to the eye than touch my feelings.

"I understand all that Dr. Price. It's not the first time I've been in a situation like this," I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. My head hurt so bad it felt like my brain was melting.

"I know, I've read your file." I was really sick of people reading my file. I was going to have Lowery find my file and delete it when I got out of here.

"That's nice."

"Can I be frank Ms. King?" I'd told her to call me Jo, but she refused. Probably some kind of Doctor-Patient protocol they teach you at head shrinking school.

"Sure." Anything to end this torture.

"Your childhood was a series of traumatic, abusive events. You desperately wanted a home, a family, and a sense of belonging. You were denied any these things and, as such, lacked purpose. So, in the interest of self-preservation you learned to hide, become self-sufficient and distanced yourself from others. Effectively never learning to form lasting relationships." I mentally rolled my eyes. "As an adult the events surrounding your childhood played a directly role in the choices you have made. This manifested as a career in the military followed by the F.B.I, and now here at Jurassic World. These professions allow you the semblance of control, stability, and even the family you've never had."

I hated to tell Dr. Price that as a child the only thing I desperately wanted was to be a superhero with global domination capabilities. As for my adult life, I joined the Army because I occasionally got to blow stuff up, and the F.B.I. job came with an awesome badge. Plus, they let me carry a gun. As for my employment at Jurassic World, well, Simon got me on an off day.

"I don' know what you expect me to do with that information Dr. Price."

She handed me a brown, leather book. "I want you to take this. I think it could be helpful for you. I want you to devote a few minutes each day and just write down what you are feeling. It can be about anything or nothing at all. I just want you to set some time aside each day specifically for this."

"You want me to keep a diary?" What was I, 12 years-old?

"It's not a diary. It's a journal." Um, OK, I failed to see the difference, but she's the one with the doctoral degree.

"If I do this, I get to keep working and I can go?" I was watching Dr. Price close for any signs of subterfuge. If she thought she was going to trick me into keeping a diary while not signing off on my paperwork I might have a significant emotional event right here in this room.

"Yes," she smiled, shaking her head.

"Sure thing Doc. I'll see ya later," I rushed out, rising from my seat heading towards the door. She remained silent scribbling notes on her pad. I think she had gone through two pads just in my session. Was that normal?

I left before she could respond, heading towards the cafeteria. I had about 20 minutes before a staff meeting with all Masrani department heads and key personnel to go over the events from the shooting.

I sat at a table by myself nursing a coffee as I tried to write something in my diary so I could get a gold star on my homework. Turns out having to fill a diary with your feelings was harder than it sounded. Staring down at the blank page I was coming up blank. It wasn't that I didn't feel anything with regards to what happened. No, I was feeling so much it was keeping me up at night, and I didn't need anymore monsters under my bed. The simple truth was I was feeling so much it threatened to drown me. There were no words I could conjure to adequately express the guilt that clogged my chest. Opening up the closed off part of my mind was the worst idea in the word. It had taken me years to fortify the walls that kept my demons caged in my mind. What the hell would come flying out if I unlocked that door? I wasn't sure I was willing to find out. Closing the diary I glanced at my watch noticing the time. Grabbing my coffee I made my way to the conference room. I could wax philosophically with my diary later.

The conference room was already filling up even though I was still a few minutes early. I moved towards the end of the long, rectangular table, furthest from Simon's seat. There was a procession to who sat where with the most important people occupying the seats front and center. In level of importance I was equivalent of a smoke detector with a failing battery, you know you have to replace the damn thing, but you avoid it for as long as possible.

Fortunately, sitting towards the end of the table ensured I was out of Simon's direct line of fire. Unfortunately, the only seat available was next to Owen. I debated turning around and just sitting somewhere in the middle, but everyone seemed to pick that exact moment to sit down. Maybe I could just casually lean against the wall.

"This seats available," Owen smiled, sliding out the chair to his left.

I was now positive there wasn't enough coffee or middle fingers for this meeting.

"Great," I replied sitting down, setting my coffee and dairy on the table. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I am the in charge of the raptor program, am I not?" If by "in charge" he meant he had a deranged lunatic pulling strings behind his back, then yeah, he was in charge.

"I guess so." I angled my chair away from him, turning my back on him as I sipped my coffee.

"What's this? You don't strike me as the note taking type," he asked, grabbing my dairy.

I looked over my shoulder. "It's my diary. My shrink gave it to me. I think she likes me."

"It's a journal," he smirked.

"Diary, journal. Same thing."

"Not exactly." He opened to the first page reading my messy writing.

"Find out if a psychiatrist can prescribe drugs," he read the only sentence in my diary, raising his eyebrows at me. "I'm not sure that's what she had in mind. You're supposed to write down how you feel, what's happening in that brain of yours," he said, pointing at my head.

Jeez, what was with everyone and feelings? This place was more sentimental than a daycare. I grabbed my dairy from him, quickly scribbling down another sentence. Once I was done I handed it back to him.

"I _FEEL_ like judo chopping Owen," he read out loud, emphasizing the word 'feel'. "Better."

I smiled at him as he handed me my diary just as the door swung open. Simon sauntered into the room looking every bit the billionaire he was, taking his seat immediately. A clear sign the meeting should begin. I had been dreading this meeting for a few days. Mentally practicing how I would recount the events from the shooting. Turns out all my practice in front of my bathroom mirror was unnecessary.

After a brief statement by someone towards the front of the table Lowery tapped a few keys on his computer bringing up a recording on the TV in the front of the room. I had worried for days about having to retell the story, and I thought that was going to be bad. Having to watch it was worse. I'd rather shove a wet noddle up a bobcats ass in a telephone booth than relive this in a room full of strangers.

I knew every inch of this place was covered in cameras, but thought they'd been disabled along with everything else that day. I shrunk down in my seat as I saw myself appear on the huge flat screen TV. I was moving down the hallway with my phone pressed to my ear.

"Do we have sound for this?" Someone sitting near Simon asked.

Lowery furiously tapped on his keyboard scrunching his nose. "We do. Give me a second to…" He was cut off as my voice flooded the conference room.

"This is a goat fuck. I'm at the lab. I'm going in, get some shit working and get me some backup Lowery."

I shrunk even further into my seat hoping it would swallow me whole as half the eyes in the room swung towards me. I felt Owen lean forward, his eyes trained on the TV. I firmly planted my eyes on the conference room table in front of me. A parade of hot, naked fireman could come dancing into the room and I wasn't going to budge. Well, that's not true, I'd sneak a quick peak.

Now would be a great time to open my diary. Dear diary, I _feel_ like bolting from this room, or maybe the entire island, never to return. Love, Jo.

Less than 20 minutes later the TV shut off and the lights were back on. A furious volley of conversation bounced around the room concerning new security protocols. I kept quiet, studiously examining my piece of the table. I heard words like metal detectors, redundant operating systems, and employee background checks. It was hard to believe this billion dollar operation needed a shooting to come up with these ideas.

Everyone seemed to be ignoring the elephant in the room. No one was asking why Ryan had shot up the lab killing himself and two people. The focus was solely on ensuring this horrific event didn't repeat itself. Not why it happened in the first place. I glanced at Owen, his steel blue eyes were looking at me hard. He subtly shook his head no. He must have been thinking exactly what I was, but obviously didn't want me bringing it up.

That was stupid. Now I had to say something.

"What about all the genetic, DNA manipulation? What was he talking about? That's the reason this occurred in the first place."

In hindsight Owen may have been right about this one, not that I'd ever tell him. The room fell silent, save a groan from beside me as Owen dropped his chin to his chest. Hoskins was seething from his seat, his eyes daring me to speak another word. Dr. Henry Wu, sitting right besides Hoskins, was eyeing me with the caution you would afford a king cobra. The shrewd calculation in his eyes gave me pause. That man was more than just the head of InGen's lab, I'd bet my life on it.

"Alright everyone, I believe we have come up with some good safety measures. I want each department head to develop their plan of action. I want it to Ms. Dearing and myself within the week," Simon said, standing up and leaving the room, effectively ending the meeting. It did not go unnoticed by me that he had completely ignored my question.

Everyone stood gathering paperwork as they walked out the door. Had I not spoken out loud just then? I got up from my seat intending to intercept Simon.

"Jo," Owen cautioned, grabbing me by the arm. He was looking at something or someone behind me.

I looked down at his hand then back up at his face. "Owen, get your hand off me or I'll break it."

I'm not really sure who would win in a fight between Owen and me. Sure, I had put him on his ass in our training session, but he hadn't been expecting that. Owen outweighed me by at least 70 pounds of rock hard muscle, and had honed his skills in the Navy. I'm pretty sure if we went at it right here I'd need to hit him with a chair to get the upper hand.

He immediately released me and I turned leaving the room, heading straight for Simon's office. I bypassed his scary ass, ancient secretary who was calling out something about needing an appointment. Ain't nobody got time for that.

I threw open Simon's door, marching up to his desk perching my hands on edge. "Simon, please tell me you don't know what Ryan Lewis was talking about."

"Sit down Jo," he commanded, eyeing me critically.

"I'll stand." Simon sighed. He probably regretted hiring me right about now.

"You understand all the dinosaurs here are designed and genetically modified in some way. We have gaps that have to be filled in their DNA or there wouldn't be any dinosaurs at Jurassic World."

"Cut the shit Simon. Ryan didn't shoot up your lab because you made a Stegosaurus."

"We fill the gaps in DNA with a variety of different things. Tree frogs…" I was not going to hit Simon. I was not going to hit Simon.

"This isn't about tree frogs either. That man may have been crazy, but he was worried about something being created in that lab," I told him, finally sitting down. "Something more than just a dinosaur."

"It's quite simple, we haven't created anything in that lab yet except for what you have seen in the park."

It was simple, like quantum physics.

"Yet?" I knew Simon well enough to listen really hard for the details. "Meaning?"

"Jo, this isn't your area of expertise. I don't think…"

"You're right, genetic manipulation is nowhere near my area of expertise. But keeping the people at this park safe is what you hired me to do. I can't do my job if I'm kept in the dark." My whole purpose here was to avoid another Jurassic Park tragedy. That happened with just your run of the mill dinosaurs. Imagine the disaster if those geeks in the lab unleashed something entirely new.

"Jo, I assure you nothing has been decided yet. We are simply investigating the possibility of using different animals DNA in the future." There was that pesky little word "yet" again. Simon wasn't an idiot, and neither was I. There was something going on here, and I intended to get to the bottom of it. Simon was adamant the possibilities were purely theoretical, something the park might need to secure its future.

Something told me the future might not be that far off.

* * *

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: Cheer up! Just a little angst to start your weekend off right :)**

 **animagirl: Thanks for the constructive criticism. I will give it a shot. Just a heads up though, my mind is in the gutter most of the time so if I don't pull it off don't hate me.**

 **DarkFireAngel00: Just 10 seconds faster is the story of Jo's life, right? Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Deathcutie20: I hope this chapter made you bust a move!**

 **xxyangxx2006: At least if they move on to the 3rd contingency we know Claire will be ready to roll. I don't even know what I'm doing tomorrow...it's frightening.**

 **localsamurai: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Glad you like the relationships/characters. Just because there are two strong female characters doesn't mean they automatically have to cat fight in Jell-o, am I right? Hope you enjoyed!**

 **angelicedg: Yeah, Jo is constantly on the struggle bus. Don't worry, she's as hard as Superman's kneecap.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Wow, over 100 Followers...you guys rock!**

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I have trust issues. Dr. Price would probably say this stems from my unresolved childhood trauma. Personally, I think it stems from people lying to me. Which was why I was in my Jeep on the way to a beach bonfire of all things.

I've never actually been to a beach bonfire before, but when they took place in movies it always involved high school kids, kegs, and a shit ton of angst. At least that's what they looked like when I watched Beverly Hills 90210. I guess when you're living on an isolated island off the coast of Costa Rica you had to improvise.

According to Cindy, who's a barista at the Starbucks on Main Street, this was going to be an "epic" party and "everyone" would be there. Most of the time when Cindy talks I just smile and nod. She talked too fast and used too many adjectives I've never heard of to be able to hold a coherent conversation with the 19 year-old, but when my caffeine deprived mind heard her mention this drunk fest I perked up. I hoped she wasn't full of shit with regards to the party because my plan depended on almost everyone, save maybe Simon and Claire, being here tonight. Nobody expects anyone at a beach bonfire to be plotting corporate espionage behind their bosses back.

As I drove up to the beach I was pleasantly surprised to find Cindy was a reliable source of information when it came to nightlife on the island. There were tons of cars parked haphazardly in a makeshift parking lot with people slowly trickling down to the beach.

Parking my Jeep I surveyed the beach. Too bad I was here for nefarious purposes because this party didn't look half bad. I didn't even see anyone accusing their best friend of sleeping with their super hot, James Dean look alike boyfriend, but the night was still young. I got out and tossed my flip flops in the passenger seat before walking down the sand trail that led to the beach. The party was already in full swing with people milling about surrounding a huge bonfire that looked about one log away from being out of control. Smokey the Bear would not be happy.

It didn't take long to spot the guy I was looking for perched awkwardly on some rocks away from most of the partygoers.

"Hey Lowery, nice shirt," I said, sitting down beside him on the rock. He was sporting an old school Jurassic Park T-shirt with old blue board shorts. He had a blue Solo cup filled to the brim with a reddish drink.

"Thanks, Vivian says it's insensitive." He looked bumped that his secret flame didn't approve of his vintage $150 T-shirt.

"Shake it off buddy. She'll come around," I consoled him, nudging him with my shoulder. He handed me a cup of my own and I cautiously sniffed the drink. "What's in this?"

"I'm not entirely sure. Marco, the manager at Margaritaville, made it. Other than the 15 bottles of different liquor I saw him pour in it could be anything."

"Sounds great," I replied, taking a tentative sip. Yummy, not bad Marco.

"I gotta be honest Jo. I'm not comfortable with whatever it is you're planning."

"I haven't told you what I'm planning yet. You can't get all freaked out until you hear the details." I was halfway through my Marco concoction and was feeling pretty good. Lowery had barely sipped his own drink, and already looked ready to faint.

"Why did we have to do this here?" he asked, looking around the beach.

"Because it's the perfect cover. Everyone's here and everyone's drinking. We are just two co-workers sitting on a rock, hanging out." As I looked around I saw the party was raging. Someone had cranked the music up, people were laughing and dancing in different groups.

"And you knew no one would think twice about us being together," Lowery supplied, setting his cup down on the rocks. "Just lay it on me Jo."

"Jesus, calm down. I'm not asking you to infiltrate Al-Qaeda." Finishing my own drink I picked up Lowery's. No need to let good liquor go to waste. "I just need you to hack into InGen's laboratory computer system and tell me what kinds of animal DNA they are messing with."

"What?!" Lowery screamed, shooting up off the rock flailing his arms around.

"Shhh, calm down," I said, standing up and looking around to see if anyone noticed his outburst. "It's worse than it sounds."

"It sounds pretty bad! You want to hack our system and steal information. That sounds really, really bad!"

Well, when he put it like that, yeah, it sounded bad. "Are you not the guy who constantly rants and raves about the dangers of genetically modified hybrids?"

"That's hardly the point and you know it. Besides, you have no proof InGen is doing anything like that."

"That's why I need you to hack the system. They're hiding something," I clarified, polishing off his cup. That stuff was more addictive than crack. I wondered if I could get another or maybe the whole trashcan. "Will you do it?"

Lowery put his knee on his elbow cradling his head. I thought maybe he wasn't going to answer. "Fine, but it's going to take some time."

"You're the best," I smiled, hugging him. "I'm going to go get us more drinks."

I hopped off the rocks, making my way over to the other side of the beach where several trashcans were sitting half buried in the sand. A small folding table had a stack of Solo cups on it, and I grabbed two, dipping them into the trashcans filling them up.

"One of those for me?"

I jumped, startled by the voice behind me, sloshing Marco's trashcan mixture all over my hands. I turned around, glaring at Owen's smirking face. "You should wear a bell." The guy moved like the wind. It was as freaky as it was annoying.

"Little surprised to see you here." That made two of us. The last person I expected to see at this cliche was Owen. He just seemed way too cool for something like this, but here he was looking like a real life Adonis in just simple board shorts and a Navy Seal T-shirt complete with an image of the punisher skull surrounded by the official seal motto, "The only easy day was yesterday". He was walking eye porn. Every woman within a five mile radius looked like they were heat staring at him. Suddenly, I felt very territorial and it pissed me off. I kept reminding myself I was fighting fucking mad at him. He was a douche and I would do well to remember it. Since he looked like a sexy underwear model that moonlighted as a freaking superhero it wasn't working out too well for me.

Fuck. Mentally slapping myself I straightened my spine, glaring daggers at him.

"Why? I heard this party was going to be all the rage," I said sarcastically, stepping around him walking back towards Lowery.

"You just don't strike me as a beach bonfire kinda girl," Owen commented, falling into step beside me.

"How the hell would you know what kind of girl I am?"

"I know you like Blue Moon beer, you can't cook to save your life, and you keep a diary." Owen looked pretty proud of himself. I knew that stupid diary would come back to haunt me. I sat back down by Lowery, handing him his cup, which he took silently avoiding eye contact with Owen.

"You know for someone who spent the better part of a month avoiding me it's quite the turnaround now that you've decided to stalk me. I can't really keep up with your mood swings," I hissed at him, chugging half my drink. My mind felt groggy and my limbs felt numb. Lowery shifted uncomfortably next to me as Owen and I just continued to stare each other down.

"Would you like to dance?" I looked to Owen's right seeing a tall man with an athletic build standing behind him wearing board shirts, a wife beater, and sporting some pretty sexy arm tattoos. Even through my beer goggles I could tell he was fairly attractive. I've never been one to chase after a man, but if he's got great hair, a killer body, and tattoos I might power walk.

"Sure," I answered, polishing off the last of my drink and hopping down off the rocks walking swiftly past Owen. I could feel his gaze burning into my back as the man led me closer to the bonfire, his hand at the small of my back.

"I'm Tony," he told me as I turned to face him, throwing my arms around his neck as I started swaying to the music.

"That's great."

I didn't really care what his name was at this point. He may have been cute, but it hardly registered on my radar. My hormones only had eyes for Owen. My hormones were always rash with their decision making, and refused to acknowledge when something was clearly a bad idea. They were all just sluts. Dancing with tall, tattoo guy was a way to put some much needed distance between myself and Owen. He'd hurt and confused me, but seeing him, smelling him, just being in his gravitational force made me want to pull him closer. I was inexplicable drawn to him. He had made his lack of interest in me clear over the last month, but taking a close look at him tonight he looked conflicted. There was a war raging behind his crystal clear blue eyes that I didn't understand. He seemed to want to simultaneously kiss me and shake some sense into me. I inspired that reaction in a lot of people.

Tall, tattoo guys hands settled on my hips as he pulled me closer to him, forcing me to focus on the man in front of me and not the man I'd given the brush off. It wasn't as easy as it should have been given how much liquor was flowing through my blood at the moment. Giving me liquor and setting me lose on a dance floor was never a good idea. It's not that I'm a bad dancer; it's just that what little inhibition I do have are completely stripped away. Determined to banish Owen from my mind I turned around in Tim's arms, putting his front to my back as I ground my hips into him. If Tim's reaction was any indication I was a few moments away from full-blown stripper moves. He was digging his hands so hard into my hips it was almost painful. Suddenly, my seductive moves didn't seem like such a good idea. I may have been a little tipsy, but I wasn't drunk enough to want tall, tattoo guy's boner pressed on my ass. Why do guys think girls like that sort of thing? I made a move to put some distance between us.

Turns out moving was unnecessary because one minute tall, tattoo guy was standing behind me, and the next minute he was about five feet away with a very angry looking Owen in his place.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he sneered at me. I was no brain surgeon, but I thought that was pretty obvious.

"Uh, dancing," I slurred, trying to focus on the three different Owen's standing in front of me.

"Looked more like you were dry humping a stranger on a public beach," Owen's said, raking a hand through his hair, his body rigid. He looked mad enough to spit.

"And?" I'm not sure why this was presenting a problem for him. Sure, there could potentially be laws against such things in Costa Rica, but maybe not. Plus, last time I checked he wasn't my dad or my boyfriend.

Before I could voice my witty retort Owen grabbed me by my arm dragging me to him. I stumbled in the sand, but he righted me, stopping me inches before I crashed into his chest. He was breathing hard as he pulled me the final few inches, slowly bringing our bodies flush together. My arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as his arms circled around my waist. The music chose just that moment to slow down, and without even realizing it we were both moving to the beat.

Now instead of dry humping a stranger on a public beach I was dry humping Owen. I considered it an improvement. Owen was beyond hot.

"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever met," he whispered into my ear.

"It's a gift." I'm a functioning hot mess. That's not the same as your average hot mess. I'm like the Sith Lord of hot messes.

We continued our dance oblivious to anyone else. The last sober cell in my brain told me this was probably a bad idea, but all the other drunk one's vetoed her decision.

I pulled him closer, breathing in his unique spicy scent. God, I'd missed him. He wasn't just my annoyingly sexy neighbor that I definitely wanted to see naked, he was my friend. In his arms I felt content for the first time in a month. I sighed heavily, this was getting beyond complicated.

One of his hands reached up, tucking my hair behind my ears as he stared at me. More often than not Owen was a closed book, but as he looked down at me I could see everything. It was as if he was trying to apologize just with his eyes. His palm slid down, cradling my face as his eyes flicked down to my mouth then up to my eyes. I swear I stopped breathing as I bit my lip in anticipation. I honestly felt like if this man didn't kiss me right here, right now, I would die. It would be one of those kisses that changed everything.

He leaned forward agonizingly slow closing the distance between us as my eyes flicked closed. Right before our lips touched his cell phone rang. Loud. He stopped, looking at me before reaching down in frustration to answer his phone with a curse.

"Grady."

I backed up out of his arms, staggering over to the folding table grabbing the first cup I could find tipping it back. What was I thinking? What was he thinking? What the fuck almost just happened? Too many questions and not enough answers. I needed liquor. Nothing helps clear your mind like trashcan punch. Before I could drain the cup Owen's hand reached out, plucking the cup from me and tossing the contents on the beach.

"Seriously? What are you my mother?"

He ignored me, speaking rapidly with whoever was on the other end of the line, probably Barry. Those two were like an old married couple. I laughed at my joke and Owen glanced at me shaking his head. He ended the call, grabbing my hand and walking back toward the makeshift parking lot.

"Hey, let go. What are you doing?" I asked as Owen hauled me past Lowery giving him a curt nod. I turned around, waving awkwardly.

"I'm taking you home then I'm going to the raptor paddock."

"Raptor emergencies are important," I said giggling. I was so funny. "Why do I have to leave the party? Lowery can take me home."

"No." Well, OK then. That cleared everything up. The drunk fog in my brain cleared enough to rear its ugly head in protest.

"Why do you even care? Last time we saw each other you kissed me, regretted it, and didn't talk to me for weeks," I said my brain functioning enough to remind me I was not happy with Owen currently. "I'm a big girl Owen. If you don't want to date me or kiss me or whatever, I can handle it. I thought we were at least friends."

Most of the spite had drained out as I finished in a pathetic whimper. I swayed slightly and Owen stepped close to me, brushing my hair out of my face. "We are friends Jo. Jesus, I want...I fucked up. I'm sorry."

His apology threw me off my game. I didn't know how to respond. Yelling, screaming and irrational conversation I excelled at. Apologies and mature discussions about feelings not so much. He grabbed my hand, leading me to his Jeep where he picked me up putting me into the passenger seat. I drew the line when he reached across me attempting to buckle my seatbelt.

I swatted his hand. "I can do it. I'm not that drunk."

Owen stepped back, his eyebrows raised as I attempted to put the seatbelt into the buckle. As it turns out this is an extremely complicated, technical procedure. After my third failed attempt Owen stepped forward, yanking the belt out of my hand buckling me in.

"I almost had it," I pouted.

He climbed into the driver's seat firing up the engine and peeling out of the parking lot. He was obviously in a hurry and I felt bad for slowing him down. And making fun of his raptor emergency.

"Sorry," I muttered under my breath. Now that we were on the road headed towards my house my head felt heavy. The scenery was whipping by so fast I felt a little nauseous. Were we moving at lightspeed?

"For what?" He seemed genuinely interested in my response.

"For making fun of your raptor emergency. I know you love your girls. I love them too. I hope they're OK." I officially had diarrhea of the mouth.

"The girls are fine. Just a little restless with the approaching storm. I need to go check on them," he said sincerely, glancing at me. "I'm not mad about that."

"Why are you mad?"

He seemed deep in thought. So I laid my head back against the seat and waited, letting my eyes drift closed.

"I hated seeing you dance with that guy," he barely more than whispered. "Him touching you...it made me want to hurt him."

My inner goddess was prying her drunken face off the bathroom floor in absolute rapture with his proclamation. I liked that he hated seeing me with tall, tattoo guy. It meant he cared. It meant that maybe, just maybe, there was hope for us yet.

I rolled my head to the left so I could look at him. "I like you too. You're pretty."

"You're drunk," he laughed.

I wiggled my hand back and forth the universal sign for "so-so". He reached out pressing his lips to the back of my hand. I smiled happily, my eyelids sinking lower and lower. I wanted to stay awake and savor the feeling of Owen's hand in mine, but I couldn't keep my eyes open. Sometime later I felt the car stopping, but figured I could just sleep in the car tonight. Moving right now was overrated. I heard the door open and felt myself being lifted and carried. My head lulled to the side bumping into Owen's solid chest where I nuzzled against him.

I felt him lay me down on my bed lightly covering me with a blanket. I thought I felt him brush a kiss against my forehead before I sank back into oblivion. The last thought floating across my mind that something had shifted tonight between us. We may fight like cats and dogs, but it was because there was something there worth fighting for.

Our relationship was far from perfect. We were the equivalent of a house that was in desperate need of an update, a fixer upper if you will. I could live with that. When a lightbulb burns out you don't go out and buy a new house, you fix the lightbulb.

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 **angelicedg: You're not wrong...Jo is not a fan of this plan.**

 **animagirl: The diary is fun...I like it too. Thanks for the review!**

 **xxyangxx2006: Hello again :) I think you're right, the shrink would quit if she knew what was actually going on in Jo's head. LOL!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I completely agree with you. It's like playing Russian roulette with a dinosaur that can eat you. No bueno!**

 **Storylover00: Thanks for the review and thanks for liking the story. I like both :)**

 **Sophie: Thanks for the kind words...hope you enjoyed the latest installment.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Monday's suck so here's a chapter to make your life better. You may need to supplement with alcohol and prescription meds of some kind if your day was anything like mine. Enjoy the mayhem!**

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My cell phone rang at an ungodly hour the next morning. I reached towards the nightstand without opening my eyes fumbling to find it.

"King," I croaked. My mouth felt like it had been rubbed raw with sandpaper.

"Jo, wake up and take some aspirin. We've got a situation. " Why was Lowery yelling?

I sat up, switching on the bedside lamp and grimacing as the light flooded the room. Looking at my phone I saw it was just after "why in the fuck are you awake?" and "go back to sleep you might still be drunk", or just after eight o'clock in the morning. I saw a bottle of Gatorade and aspirin sitting on the bedside table that I didn't remember putting there. I thought back to last night trying to recall what happened.

Like a movie reel images began flashing through my head. Oh god, no. This wasn't happening. Bits and pieces of the night coming together to paint a pretty humiliating picture. I vaguely remembered telling Owen he was pretty and that I loved his raptors. I really hoped I was remembering it wrong. Otherwise I would need to find a rock to hide under for the rest of my life.

"Jo, are you still there?

"I'm here, unfortunately. What's going on?" I answered, opening the aspirin bottle and pouring out a couple of pills.

"Remember the storm system I said was going to miss us?"

"You mean the hurricane?" Just as I answered a loud crack of thunder sounded outside. I could hear rain pounding against my house as the wind howled.

"Yeah, well, it didn't miss us. We are getting hit hard with the tropical aftermath."

Thanks Captain Obvious. "Are you calling me just to tell me the weather?" A girl could hope. I was already at my closet throwing on some clothes.

"A couple of technicians were out in the valley testing the new gyrosphere technology early this morning. The storm turned unexpectedly cutting the test short. All but one of the technicians has returned to base. We can't reach him on comms."

"How long since his last transmission?" I was dressed and pulling my hair back in a ponytail accutaely aware of the pounding in my head. Maybe doing a keg stand with Marco's trashcan punch wasn't the best idea.

"Thirty minutes."

"Why not send ACU out?" I bent down under the couch, sliding a go bag out. My former life in the military and the F.B.I. dictating I remain vigilant and prepared. Well that, or I was just slow to unpack.

"Most of the force was on the other side of the island for rock drills. The storm washed out the roads and there's no ETA for their return. You're all we have in the area," Lowery told me, apology in his tone.

I grabbed extra rain gear shoving it into my backpack along with some granola bars from my kitchen. "Send his last known coordinates to my phone. I'm leaving now. I'll let you know what I find when I get there."

I stepped outside, running for my Jeep in the torrential downpour. The wind was whipping the trees around with incredible force, bending some so much I thought they might snap like toothpicks. The surface of the sea was covered with white streaks and foam patches. Each wave that crashed on the beach brought with it a whitish mass of spray that shot out onshore, dissipating into the air like a mist.

I jumped in the Jeep, slamming the door quickly checking my phone for the coordinates. I tore off in the direction of the valley feeling my tires slip and slide on the muddy roads. It took a half hour to make the journey, and when I got there I didn't see anyone.

Reaching into the backseat I grabbed my goodie bag from Hamada searching for the ear communication unit. I slide it out of the bag positioning the earwig in my right ear, turning the unit on as I made my way out of the Jeep. I put my go bag on my shoulder adjusting the straps as I used a flashlight to scan the immediate area.

"Control room this is King, radio check, over," I said, seeing no evidence of the missing technician. Walking slowly around the area I saw what looked like footprints smeared in the mud. Bending down I traced the outline, gazing up into the jungle. I sighed, why don't people just stay put when shit hits the fan?

"Hear you loud and clear Jo," was Lowery's response in my ear.

"I'm on site at the edge of the valley. There's no one here. I see footprints leading into the jungle," I told him. "I'm going to follow and see where they lead. He may have tried to shelter there once the weather came in."

"Copy Jo, be careful," Lowery responded. "We have your GPS unit on screen in here. We'll track your progress and let you know if an assets gets too close."

"There dinosaurs Lowery, not assets, but I would appreciate the heads up."

I stepped into the jungle and was instantly plunged into darkness. I cut the flashlight, not moving while my eyes adjusted to the crippling darkness. Using the flashlight would speed things up, but it would also make me a more visible target. It would be like waving a red flag at a pissed off bull. The weather was hardly the biggest threat in this jungle.

On a positive note, traipsing through the jungle looking for a lost technician gave me little time to think about the disaster that was last night. In hindsight, I guess Owen's girls were right about the weather. It's a sad day when Velociraptors were a better weatherman than the actual weatherman.

With my eyes adjusted to the dark I slowly looked around for any indication of which way the technician had traveled. Common sense told me he wouldn't have gotten far given how ill prepared he was for this weather. The rain hadn't let up at all, nor had the wind, but the canopy of the jungle provided moderate protection.

I spotted something white a few feet away and bent down picking up an ID badge. I used my hands to wipe away some mud and looked around. He had definitely come this way fairly recently. I stuffed the badge in my pocket, continuing in the same direction.

I walked for a while before I was forced to stop as the jungle abruptly dropped off. Looking both directions I kept my fingers crossed for some sign the technician had doubled back, but when I looked to my left I saw something that looked like a hard hat. I slowly moved along the drop off, slipping a few times as the edge gave way in the wet conditions. I picked up the hard hat, kneeling down. Snapped branches and smeared footprints proved the technician had likely fallen here. I peered over the edge of the cliff sighing. Great. Of course he wasn't lying in an injured heap on top of the cliff.

I removed my backpack, digging out some climbing rope, tying a knot around a large tree behind me and fashioning a swiss seat for myself. I pulled some fingerless gloves on my hands putting my backpack back on my shoulders. Throwing the rope over the edge I sent up a prayer to whoever was listening. This was a bad plan.

"Control room this is King, over."

"Go ahead Jo," Lowery answered, the ear comm coming in broken.

"I think I know where he is, but it's not going to be easy to get him. Mark this spot on the GPS. If you don't hear from me in an hour come to this cliff. I'll probably be at the bottom."

Silence.

"Lowery?"

"Jo, this is Claire. I think you should wait. We might be able to get Hamada's team out there with appropriate supplies in a few hours," she said, her tone clipped and serious.

"Claire, we can't wait. It's bad out here. If he's down there he's probably hurt and definitely hypothermic. A couple of hours could mean the difference between life and death. I'm going," I replied, backing up towards the edge.

"Be careful," Claire said, sounding resigned. If I died doing this she'd never forgive me for ruining her safety record.

"Will do, out"

I glanced over the edge, taking a deep breath. Time to get this party started. I backed over the side slowly starting my decent. The conditions were miserable making it impossible for me to keep my footing. I slipped and mostly fell to the bottom, but I was still alive and relatively unharmed. When my feet hit solid ground again I fought the urge to kiss the rain soaked ground.

"Control room, I'm at the bottom. Do you copy?" All I heard in return was static. Fucking great. "Control, do you copy? I'm at the bottom initiating search."

"Jo…broken….hold….worse." I couldn't make out anything over the static in my ear, but what little I heard sounded an awful lot like Owen. That made no sense. He was probably at the raptor paddock babysitting the girls not watching this unfold in the control room. The fact that I was now imagining Owen's sexy, baritone voice made me roll my eyes at myself. I was miserable, edgy, and tired. I was in the perfect mood for a search and rescue.

"I can't hear you control. Communications are failing." I really hoped a dinosaur didn't decide to come by right now. I was flying blind without the control room to alert me to their proximity.

I heard a rustle to my right and froze with my hand on my tranquilizer gun. Sometimes it's easy to forget you're traipsing around in a jungle full of dinosaurs. I suddenly wished I'd decided to bring my rifle. Claire's rules about non-lethals were cramping my style.

"Hello, is someone there?" a weak voice called out. I was fairly certain dinosaurs couldn't talk so it looked like I had found our missing technician.

"My name is Jo King and I'm here to get you out of here," I said, moving towards his voice. I found him lying with his back against a tree, cradling his left arm to his chest. "What's your name?"

"Parker Lehman," he stuttered, the cold making his teeth chatter. "I think my arms broken."

"Falling 50 feet will do that Parker," I smiled at him. I was knelt beside him, rummaging through my bag for some rain gear and medical supplies. He was dressed like he was going to play golf in tan shorts and a polo shirt. The storm had caused the temperature to drop dramatically, and he was dangerously close to hypothermia.

I used some of my medical supplies to immobilize his arm against his chest before helping him struggle into some rain resistant pants. I slide the rain jacket around his shoulder, and he put his right arm through the sleeve as I zipped it up for him. Pulling up the hood I helped him stand. I couldn't do anything about his already wet clothes, but the rain gear would keep him from getting wetter and hopeful provide some warmth.

"How's your pain?" I asked.

"I'm OK. How are we getting out of here?" he asked, slightly panicked as he peered up at the cliff. I pulled a map out of my shirt pocket using my flashlight to see where we were. After a few minutes I had the best plan I could come up with considering our circumstances.

"Well, not that way we came down with your arm broken," I told him, gesturing to the cliff with my flashlight. "We'll head this way until we will come to a stream. A few miles down there's a bridge. On the other side of the stream is a main supply road. It's our best bet for getting out of here." Parker nodded his head in agreement. Not that he had any other options at this point.

"Control, we are moving to grid location 11508133. ETA to arrival two hours, over," I said, closing my eyes hoping for a response.

Nothing.

"Did they hear? Will they be waiting?" Parker asked hopefully.

With my back to Parker I opened my eyes looking down. "Yeah Parker, they heard. Probably be there well before we will. Let's get moving," I lied.

Moving through a jungle chalked full of dangerous creatures in a hurricane would be painful if I was by myself. Doing all that with Parker, his broken arm, and his Fila running shoes was laughable. I'm not sure who was in more pain, him or me. I had no words to describe this day. I did, however, have a ton of obscene gestures.

Every time we stopped to rest I tried to reach Lowery, but never received a response. I could only hope my GPS was still transmitting to the control room, and someone was smart enough to figure out where we were going. The weather had deteriorated, a fact I would have believed impossible an hour ago. The rain pounded us relentlessly as the wind howled like a wolf, causing the rain to beat against our exposed skin.

As we stopped to rest I handed Parker a protein bar and water watching him closely. He was sweating profusely despite the cool temperature, and was showing obvious signs of shock. Parker wasn't going to last much longer in these conditions. He was likely to pass out from pain, exhaustion, or both soon. While I was stronger than most there was no way I could lug a grown man around the jungle for more than a few minutes.

"Ready Parker? We're almost there," I told him, standing and putting my backpack on. I hauled him to his feet as he mumbled an incoherent response. The guy was tough, but he was obviously a desk jockey by day. The physical exertion of our travel would have been tough for him even he wasn't injured. Coaxing him forward with words of encouragement we began moving forward, our progress excruciatingly slow.

A half-mile later I was breathing hard, supporting most of Parker's weight as he slipped in and out of consciousness. His right arm was slung around my shoulder, and he was doing little more than shuffling his feet at this point. I continued to drag him forward, straining against the hellish conditions. We rounded a bend in the stream, and I could make out what appeared to be the bridge in the distance.

"Parker, look," I said pointing. He perked up hearing my voice, looking unfocused in the direction I pointed. "It's the bridge, we're close now." The storm had caused a massive surge in the creek transforming it into a dangerous, rapidly moving river. The water level was so high it crested just below the bridge we needed to cross.

"I have to go. I have to get out of here," he stuttered, taking a step towards the river wobbling on his feet. I reached out to steady him mere inches from the waters edge as he started to topple over. Just as I righted Parker a surge of water rushed over our feet. Suddenly, the bank of the river we were standing on was washed away, plunging us into the water.

The ice cold water punched the air out of my lungs as my head dipped underwater. I kicked towards the surface, fighting against the weight of all my gear. My head broke the surface and I searched frantically for Parker. He was nowhere in sight as I moved swiftly down the river twisting and turning in circles unable to stop my momentum. I blindly reached out, trying to grab passing branches and roots to slow myself down, but couldn't keep a solid hold on anything.

I heard a shout beside me as Parker's head popped above the surface only to be submerge a second later. My hand shot out under the water hoping to grab a hold of his clothes. I felt rain gear brush my fingertips and clamped my hand around the fabric, my fingers barely responding to my commands due to the cold. I pulled Parker hard towards me, trying to simultaneously pull his head above the water. His head broke the surface with a gurgle as he thrashed, hitting me in the face.

"Parker, goddammit calm down."

I attempted to position myself behind him so he couldn't grab onto me and push me down, but we were moving too fast. We rolled and plummeted along relentlessly, each of us dipping under the water sporadically. I spotted the bridge in the distance and it was closing in fast. We had to get to the side quickly. This river could carry us for miles, and I had no idea where it ended. If the control room heard my transmission they would be looking for us here, not miles downstream.

I kicked and pulled with everything I had trying to keep a hold on Parker. A branch slapped me across the face, and I sank to the bottom like a stone taking Parker with me. Momentarily stunned I could do nothing more than hold my breath, fighting the urge to breathe underwater. Kicking towards the surface I pulled Parker with me, and after what felt like eternity our heads surfaced. We both desperately gasped for air. I saw flashes of light bobbing around on the side of the riverbank as we continued to tumble down the river. I could scarcely hear the screaming and shouting of the men over the violent rush of water. It took a moment for my brain to process the scene before pure relief flooded my system. The control room had heard me, they were here.

"Parker kick! We have to get to the side!" I yelled, water pouring into my mouth causing me to gag and cough.

Parker must have seen the flashlights too because he kicked with renewed vigor. Better late than never, I guess. The river caused me to twisted around and I was able to see the men positioned as close to the river as they could without falling in themselves. The speed we were traveling at ensured we were going to get one shot at this. If we couldn't slow down and get to the side chances were we'd drowned before we could try anything else.

I glanced over my shoulder, we were about to pass under the bridge. The men were positioned on both sides with ropes and hands outstretched across the river. I narrowed my eyes as I saw a huge boulder protruding out into the river directly in our path. In our current position, Parker would slam into it first with me not far behind. I furiously kicked, adjusting our positions so my back was to the oncoming obstacle .

I had just gotten us turned when my back was impaled by the boulder, Parker slamming into me right after. Pain exploded through my body, and I lost my grip on Parker, sinking down towards the riverbed. The edges of my vision blurred, black dots dancing before my eyes like fireworks. My lungs burned with the need for oxygen. I weakly kicked towards the direction I thought was the surface, but my legs hardly responded.

I felt a tug on my gear as someone pulled me hard, hoisting me up onto the large boulder. I gasped for air immediately regretting it as pain radiated from the right side of my body, forcing me to take small, shallow breaths. My rescuer finished pulling me completely out of the water, picking me up briefly before gently placing me on my back at the river's edge.

"Jo, breath. I've got you," Owen said, pushing wet hair out of my face. "Can I get a medic over here!"

"Parker," I rasped, my voice sounded strange to my ears. I couldn't get my body to respond to my commands.

"He's fine. He's already in the truck. You saved his life." Owen sounded irritated by my awesomeness.

I looked at him as he hovered over me while I lay on the ground. "Y-y-yea m-me-e-e," I stuttered, my teeth chattered together from the cold.

He laughed, gathering me in his arms, hugging me to him. I winced from the pain, and he loosened his grip still cradling my body.

"I can't leave you for two seconds without you finding a near death experience," he said, worry contorting his beautiful face.

He sounded upset by my display of dazzling abilities. Well, that made two of us. Trust me, when I woke up I had no plans to be awesome, but shit happens.

"Thanks, thanks f-for com-m-ming for m-me." I was shaking violently now, every convulsion causing excruciating pain in my chest and side. Owen draped a survival blanket over me tucking it around my body making me into a survival burrito.

"I'll always come for you. Thanks for not dying before I could get here," he smiled down at me.

I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. I could feel myself fading. A medic knelt on the other side of me speaking with Owen, but they sounded a million miles away. I felt him push onto my side eliciting a groan from me in response. Everything hurt. Owen bellowed a harsh reply at him, physically removing the medic's hands from my side. I felt the sharp pinch of a needle in my leg before feeling a slight burn as the pain medication raced through my veins.

For a second I felt like I was floating.

Then I felt nothing.

* * *

 **Storylover00: Thank you very much and I agree with you, Owen and Jo probably need to end up together because lord knows they couldn't tolerate anyone else.  
**

 **Sophie: Thanks for reading my awesome Jurassic World story :) Hope you keep it up!**

 **angelicedg: I wish they'd do that too, but these two crazy kids don't ever seem to corporate.**

 **animagirl: I channeled my sister when I wrote drunk Jo...LOL! (Shhh, don't tell her)**

 **lucian87: Thanks! Hope you keep reading!**

 **xxyangxx2006: That whole island is predicated on sneaking around so it is definitely happening. Lowery works fast, but something tells me that won't be the end of it :)**

 **AmericanCowGirl44: I do that ALL the time...I'm glad I'm not the only one. Good thing I don't actually do much at work or I'd be in serious trouble.**

 **redhouseclan: Jo does rock, I agree :) Thanks for reading!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: Hello again! FYI, thanks for sticking with me :) Drunk Jo is amazing (I took inspiration from my sister tipsy so it's extra special for me). Those two love birds are made for each other, right?!**

 **.5095110: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed the latest addition.**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Glad you like it...I love these types of stories too.**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: I agree...I love them too! Hope you keep reading.**


	15. Chapter 15

**TGIF! The plot thickens...  
**

* * *

"All I'm saying is someone barley touches them and they fall, screaming in agony, for 15 minutes. That's the definition of acting like a pussy," I explained to Barry as he stood before a whiteboard transcribing notes about the girl's daily activities. "No, flip number one and two. Delta got to the pig first then relinquished control to Blue."

I was lying on the couch in Owen and Barry's office chewing on Twizzlers debating with him the merits of American football versus European football, more commonly referred to as soccer. My little swim in the river rewarded me with three cracked ribs, and too many cuts and bruises to count. I was ordered by Simon to take the full six weeks of medical leave my doctor had recommended. I tried to lodge a protest, but he simply ignored me, and my very detailed comment card, going about his business as if I wasn't in the room. Simon was kind of a dick sometimes.

For the first week I'd recuperated at my house with Owen or Barry stopping by at steady intervals to bring me food, dispense my pain meds, and attempt to relieve my boredom. After throwing a fit and tossing a Vicodin bottle at Owen's head in frustration he made the administrative decision to bring me to work with him every day. I told him he didn't have to, but kept my fingers crossed behind my back that he wouldn't abandon me in my time of need. I would have understood if he couldn't handle me at my worst, that shit was ridiculous sometimes. I don't know how he managed it, but Owen weathered my mood swings like a champ. I think he's trying for sainthood. If our situations had been reversed I would have smothered him with a pillow by now. Just sayin'.

I didn't do all that much given I could hardly stand up straight without crying in pain, but being here made me feel more useful than lounging in my house watching DVDs all day by myself. Right now, I was trying to convince Barry that American football was WAY better than European soccer (or futbol as Barry so eloquently pronounced it with his annoyingly sexy French accent) based solely on the toughness of the players.

"Futbol is not called the beautiful game for nothing Jo. It is the most popular sport everywhere in the world except the United States," he stated his case while making the correction on the board before turning to face me.

"Soccer Barry, it's called soccer. Football is where real men put on pads and try to kill each other in the name of sport."

"It's only called soccer in America," he clarified.

"I fail to see your point."

He smiled devilishly, "We aren't in America Jo. Therefore, it would only be proper to refer to the game by its true name, futbol."

I rolled my eyes. "First of all, no one talks like that so stop with the Gerard Depardieu. Second, you're not getting off on a geographical technicality. Soccer players are not as tough football players. It's a scientific fact."

Barry tried to look mock offended by my characterization, but I knew deep down he worked that French accent to his advantage. Chewing on another Twizzler I read the rest of the notes on the board while Barry stewed in his defeat. He was sporting an exasperated look on his face that made me smile. Truth was I really enjoyed soccer, especially when the World Cup rolled around, but messing with Barry was my primary occupation these days. 

The door opened, Owen stepping inside surveying the office. "Are you trying to set some kind of record for Twizzler consumption?" he asked, pointing to the bag lying on my stomach, half empty.

"This is my first bag." This afternoon.

He smiled, shaking his head as he walked to his desk sitting down facing me. He reached in his pocket pulling out my Vicodin bottle.

"Are you going to corporate today and take your pill?"

"If I say no are you going to crush another one up in my sandwich?" I huffed at him. He just smiled back at me with a knowing look.

A day after the incident I'd been struggling with the pain my cracked ribs were causing me. The doctor had prescribed painkiller to help, but I wasn't too keen on prescription medication. Why did all medications came with side effects like 'anal leakage' and 'suicidal thoughts'? Why not 'the ability to fly' or 'spontaneous orgasms'? Those were some side effects I could get on board with.

Owen and I fought over it for half a day before I incorrectly thought I'd won the argument after he abruptly let the subject drop. I figured out why when I finished off the ham, mustard and potato chip sandwich he'd made for me. My head was woozy by the time I realized he had crushed up the pill and sprinkled it into my food. I yelled some things at him that would have made a sailor blush, but Owen didn't seem to care and continued watching my TV unfazed. I promptly fell asleep next to him a short while later.

"Gimme the pill," I conceded, holding out my hand. Barry laughed at our exchange then turned back to the whiteboard. "You know, what you did was illegal. I could have you arrested."

"I'm trembling with fear," he retorted, dropping the pill into my hand. I put it in my mouth using the remains of my Gatorade to wash it down. Owen continued to stare at me expectantly.

I opened my mouth, moving my tongue up and around to show him I'd swallowed the pill. "This is like being in a mental institution. Are you going to give me a sponge bath later too?"

He slowly rose from his seat walking towards me. He braced his arms on either side of the couch bending forward, "Is that an invitation?"

Yes! "No."

I wiggled as far back into the couch as I could get my eyes wide. I had to bit my tongue to keep from changing my answer.

"Liar," he hummed pushing off the couch.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, grabbing my ribs as they protested. Owen and Barry stood in front of the whiteboard discussing the observations. Owen pointed to a point on the board questioning the order of events.

"Jo was adamant it happened like this," Barry said, glancing at me over his shoulder.

"You're sure?" Owen asked.

"Well, yeah." I recounting the events from yesterday, taking brief pauses to stuff my mouth full of Twizzlers. I started with our arrival at the paddock, taking them through everything I remembered, from sitting with the girls talking to them while the veterinarians drew blood to the drills Owen put them through later in the day.

I added as much detail as I could remember. Outlining each raptors behavior throughout the day, their facial expressions, even the clicking of the claws in the sand when they were agitated. When I was done both men were facing me.

"What?" I said, digging out another Twizzler.

"How do you remember all that?" Owen questioned.

"It's been a slow couple of weeks for me. Other than sleeping I've been here watching the girls."

They both looked impressed by my recall. I gave them both a toothy smile, then turned my attention to more important matters...like Candy Crush. I understood their shock. Sometimes I amazed myself, other times I couldn't remember what day it was.

"Come on, it's time to feed the girl," Owen told me moving with Barry to the door. He stopped by the couch helping me up by the elbow.

"You would have made an excellent nurse, you know that?" I told him.

"I'll keep that in mind for my next career. Want to feed them today?"

I made a gagging noise in my throat, my body shivering with disgust. This had become a running joke for Owen and Barry ever since they discovered I found the dead rats they fed the raptors revolting. It was like something straight out of Fear Factor.

"It's not that bad. I'll even let you wear the gloves," Owen laughed, walking with me to the door.

I'd tried the gloves already. They hadn't worked. I couldn't even get close enough to the rat bucket to look inside without dry heaving. Just imagining their stiff, rigamortis bodies was enough to make a cold sweat breakout on my forehead. I was fine as long as there was a minimum distance of 10 feet between the bucket and me.

"No thanks, I'll leave this to the professionals."

Owen and Barry climbed the stairs to the catwalk as I slowly followed at a much slower pace. Once at the top I took a seat in the chair Barry had been nice enough to drag up here so I didn't have to stand throughout the whole routine.

The raptors had made incredible strides these last few weeks after we uncovered Blue's attempted subterfuge. I noticed it one day while Owen took them through their drills. Blue would make slight movements with her head or talon a split second before Owen issued a command. I mentioned it to Barry who confirmed he'd seen it as well. We discussed it over dinner one night eventually coming to the conclusion Blue was using the slight motions prior to Owen's command as a way of rebelling.

The raptors accepted Owen as their Alpha, but they knew he wasn't one of them. Blue was struggling with Owen for control, and her subtle movements were an attempt to portray a message that she was training Owen, not the other way around. A message for the pack that she was the one calling the shots.

Since there's not much in the way of research when it comes to training raptors Owen decided they only way to assert his dominance over Blue was to wait her out. I wasn't sure what that would entail, but it didn't sound like fun. The following day during their drills I found out what he had in mind. Turns out his plan was to show Blue he was more stubborn than she was. He simply stood on the catwalk refusing to toss Blue her rat until she remained immobile prior to him pressing the clicker. I'd always thought I was the most stubborn person in existence, but watching Owen and Blue that day I knew I came in a distance third. It was like watching a Mexican standoff, except it was only between two people. Well, one person and a Velociraptor.

It had drug on for hours. How Owen managed to stay immobile was something that should be studied. He didn't even wipe the sweat off his face as he held Blue's defiant gaze. Blue had been livid, stalking around growling up at him. The two of them stood there glaring daggers at each other for almost three hours before Blue finally submitted to Owen's demand for absolute compliance.

Since then the girls had obyed Owen's commands, more of less considering they were dinosaurs. I sat down in my chair, propping my legs up on the railing to watch the show. Not five minutes into the drills Hoskins lumbered up the stairs panting like he'd just finished a marathon and not a set of stairs.

He stopped at my outstretched legs, looking down at me expectantly, "Move."

"I can't. I'm injured. I have a doctor's note and everything." I didn't like being told what to do. Unless I'm naked, then I'm willing to offer some measure of latitude.

My response left Hoskins with two options. He could attempt to climb over my legs; an option I wouldn't recommend if he valued his twig and berries in their natural state. Or take the long way around the catwalk to get to where Owen was currently working.

He chose the long way around, huffing and cursing me under his breath as he went.

"Why do you antagonize him?" Barry asked, stopping to lean against the railing beside me.

"Because it's fun and I'm having a slow week."

"You do realize he's our boss, and can make our lives difficult, right?"

"He wouldn't do that. He needs you guys too much," I reassured Barry. "Besides, if he decides to make you guys' life difficult I'll just have to ensure Simon does the same to him."

I pulled a Twizzler out of my pocket as Barry and I shared a secret smile. Hoskins may be the head of InGen's security division and their boss, but Simon still owned the company. And Simon liked me more than he liked Hoskins.

"I thought he wasn't due back for another month?" I stated.

"Yeah, well, Owen's breakthrough with Blue moved up his timetable."

"You should stop sending him those reports."

"I delay them as long as I can, but if I send nothing he might just decide to relocate here to supervise the program personally," Barry warned.

That sounded horrible. I'd rather eat one of those dead rats while someone shoved bamboo under my fingernails than have Hoskins on this island permanently.

"Looks like he's wrapping up," Barry said gesturing to Owen. He tossed Blue her rat and quickly retreating down an opposite set of stairs, Hoskins hot on his heels.

I stood up slowly, stretching gingerly as I turned to go downstairs. I was hot and the medication Owen had shoved down my throat was making me groggy. Maybe I could take a nap on the couch while the guys finished up for the day. Barry told me to go lay down, turning the opposite direction to meet up with Owen. At the bottom of the stairs I decided to take a short cut between the supply shed and one of the raptor holding pens. It probably cut exactly 10 seconds off of the walking time. I didn't like to think of it as laziness. It was all about efficiency, and I was nothing if not efficient. Unfortunately, before I could exit the alley Hoskins stepped in front of me.

"You're a distraction to your boyfriend," he sneered.

I laughed. Really hard, and it hurt. A lot.

"My boyfriend," I stuttered, trying to contain my laughter for fear my ribs would snap again. "Jeez, did he tell you he liked me. I left him a note at his locker, but haven't seen if he circled yes or no." I crossed my arms over my chest, my eyebrows raised, waiting for Hoskins to move.

"I heard about your unfortunate fall into the river. Shame how it all turned out."

"If I didn't know better Hoskins I'd say you were sorry to see me still breathing," I said smiling slightly.

"You're alive because Owen pulled your sorry ass out of that river before you drowned. What he should have been doing was taking care of the raptors."

"Their dinosaurs Hoskins not Chihuahuas," I threw back at him. Hoskins had hated me on sight. I didn't think that was fair so I'd given that motherfucker about 1,000 reasons since the day we first met. This was just one in a long line of many.

Owen was at the raptor paddock when the storm hit. He was calling the control room to report their status when Lowery relayed my predicament. After ensuring the raptors could weather the storm unscathed he and Barry went to the control room to see what they could do to help. When I had relayed my grid location to the control room it was Owen who was able to decipher it.

"Not the point. You draw his focus away from the mission. To control these assets."

I shook my head disbelievingly. "You're fucking delusional if you think anyone controls these animals, but themselves." I took a step forward, my eyes scanning Hoskins up and down. "Get out of my way." I said each syllable slowly, making sure the asshole understood even nursing a few broken ribs I could still kick his ass.

He leaned in close to me, "I'd be careful Jo, you have a pretty smart mouth for someone in such a precarious position. You may not always be on Masrani's good side."

This guy really had no idea. My smart mouth was always getting me into trouble, and if it wasn't doing the job then face picked up the slack. If Hoskins thought some petty ass threats were enough to scare me off, especially from Owen, he was stupider than I'd originally thought. My life was nothing but a series of precarious positions. This just happened to be the latest.

Thinly veiled threat aside Hoskins had made a critical error by showing his cards. He stepped aside, and I walked passed him to the office. He'd all but confirmed what I already knew; InGen thought they could control the raptors for their own diabolical use.

What exactly they were planning, and why they wanted it so badly was still a mystery. All I needed was to do a little digging, and I was certain the proof I needed would present itself.

I wasn't there yet, but I was closer than yesterday.

It was a start.

* * *

 **localsamurai: Jo will always do what needs to be done, but she'll do it her own way that's for sure. Thanks for reading!  
**

 **angelicedg: Glad you liked it! I have more planned, hope you stick around :)**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for reading and I'm glad you like it. My plan after finishing this is to do a sequel that takes us through the events of the movie with Jo and the crew (if there is demand for it that is). It will be AU as well since, well, Jo wasn't really there...LOL! Don't worry, I have big plans for Owen and Jo.**

 **xxyangxx2006: I wouldn't worry about Jo. One little boo boo in the jungle is hardly the worst thing she's had to deal with. Thanks for sticking around. Hope you enjoyed the latest!**

 **animagirl: Thank you very much! Hope you like this one!**

 **Storylover00: Thanks for saying that...I crack myself up with it all, but it's nice to have other people like it too :) Hope you liked the newest addition.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: First, I am having the hardest time finding a Desert Vulpes. Second, even if I find one I think my dog might just eat it so maybe not the best idea. Third, I loved writing that...I'm glad you loved reading it.**

 **bip23: Thanks! Jo is fun to write and makes it pretty easy:) Hope you enjoyed the latest!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: smiley face right back at ya!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I have family in town for the week and am off from work. What this means for you...more time to write and update since my kids are in school and I'm avoiding my family pretending to work from home (Don't judge, you haven't met them) What this means for me...I'm surviving on mostly alcohol and Ibuprofen. As a side note, I'd like to give a shout out to my liver...you are one tough son of a bitch.**

* * *

"I want to build an extension for the bungalow here," Owen explained, standing in the front of his house, waving his hands animatedly around in what I guessed was supposed to display his intentions. I do DIY even less than I cook (which was saying something) so I had no idea what he was talking about at the moment.

He was making dinner while I lounged on his porch drinking sweet tea instead of beer. Accordingly to Owen the Safety Monitor, "mixing alcohol and narcotics was a bad idea". I pretty much made my living on bad ideas so I didn't see the issue. Unfortunately for me Owen held the keys to the kingdom, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. He currently had all the beer in his fridge, and he was heaven in the kitchen. The thinly veiled threats to stop cooking for me made me break out in a cold sweat at the mere thought. I couldn't go back to ham, mustard and potato chip sandwiches after experience the culinary orgasms that were Owen's cooking. I just couldn't. So I played nice and drank my sweat tea with a minimal amount of grumbling.

We'd returned from the raptor paddock a little over an hour ago, and Owen went right to cooking dinner. In an attempt to at least pretend like I wasn't 100% addicted to his food I tried telling him I was fine eating cereal at my house. He just shook his head, muttered something about wondering how I was still alive, and drove past my house without even slowing down. I gave him a half-ass scowl as a rebuttal, but inside I was leaping for joy. I approach cooking the same way I calm myself down after reading science fiction novels, with a stern shake of the head and the knowledge that it will never happen.

"Why?" I asked regarding his impending bungalow expansion. I thought our houses were pretty legit, why go through all the trouble to build an addition? That sounded like way too much work, especially in the Costa Rican climate. Plus, I was simply too lazy to even entertain this notion.

"A workshop. I still have a storage unit full of stuff stateside."

A workshop? He would go through all that just so he would have a place to store his crap?

"I'm not helping. I don't care what food you withhold as punishment."

Owen had the upper hand in the cooking department. In reality it wasn't even really a contest. My favorite thing to make for dinner was reservations. Owen had skills the likes of which made me wonder why he'd chosen the Navy and not culinary school. His mother's macaroni and cheese recipe alone was enough to put me in a food coma. I survived mostly on junk food, alcohol, and cereal. Lately Owen and I had been spending so much time together it had morphed into also sharing meals. I found comfort in his presence, and it made the slow process of healing somewhat bearable. Plus, there was the added bonus of having someone around to do all the grown-up stuff I was incapable of completing.

At least that's why I told myself I was slightly disappointment every night when he left for his bungalow. If I thought the disappointment was hard to reconcile it was nothing compared to the anxious feeling that fluttered in m stomach when I saw him for the first time each morning. When I caught myself inventing reasons to touch him or how I felt instantly better the moment he stepped into the room I knew I was seriously screwed.

"Oh, I think you could be persuaded," he smirked.

I shook my head. This was non-negotiable. I wasn't engaging in manual labor in my free time no matter what he did.

"I'm sorry to hear that. I guess I won't need to make my fettuccini alfedo anytime soon."

My mouth started watering immediately.

"I was going to make my chili sometime this week too," he pondered, looking contemplative.

I told myself to stay strong. It was only chili, no big deal. I'd survived without it for years. I could go back to a world devoid of the delicious beefy, tomato, onion and bean chili with just the right amount of smoke to heat ratio. Oh shit, I might cry.

"I should call Barry and tell him to forget grabbing that salmon from Enrique. I've never really loved herb crusted salmon anyway."

"Fine, you sadist! I'll help with your stupid shed!" A woman had to prioritize, and taking away his herb crusted salmon ranked above working in gut wrenching heat.

"Workshop," he smiled. "And thanks for volunteering."

"I hope you don't want your _shed_ anytime soon because my doctor says I'm not allowed to lift anything heavier than a laundry basket." He ignored me. Typical.

My phone vibrating on the table, reaching over I grabbed it, seeing a text from Lowery.

 _Wanted to check on you. Meet up later? – Lowery_

I chewed the inside of my lip. Lowery was sweet, but he'd already checked on me earlier this week. If he wanted to meet it was because he had information on his Mission Impossible assignment. I glanced up at Owen, seeing him still absorbed in his home improvement project, I quickly texted Lowery back.

 _Sure, meet you there around 2100. – Jo_

 _What's 2100? – Lowery_

Jeez, I was working with amateurs.

 _9 p.m. – Jo_

Tucking my phone quickly into my pocket I sipped my tea looking to Owen. He was still deep in thought, probably picking out color schemes and carpet swatches for his shed. I closed my eyes intending to just relax for a few minutes before asking if Owen needed any help with dinner. He always said no, but it made me feel like less of a mooch if I offered. My catnap somehow turned into a full-blown REM cycle at some point.

"Jo, wake up. Dinner's ready." Owen was sitting beside me on the loveseat gently shaking me.

"Shit, I'm sorry. Do you need me to do anything?" I tried to sit up, but my ribs protested causing me to fall back down.

Owen leaned forward, putting one hand behind my neck and the other around my shoulder pulling me into a sitting position. "You OK? Need another pill?" he asked, worry fluttering across his face.

"No, I'm good. Just tried to get up too fast."

He helped me stand up, keeping his arms wrapped around me. My hands found their way to his chest, and those damn butterflies made my stomach roll. What was this man doing to me? I looked up at him through my lashes, and found he was watching me with an indecipherable look on his face. I realized this was the closest we'd been since my drunkfest at the bonfire.

To be fair, that wasn't technically accurate. Apparently we had been pretty close after my dip in the river the way Barry tells it. Owen had steadfastly refused to allow anyone else to hold me the entire way to the clinic, keeping me curled in his lap in the back of the van. When the medic attempted to take me from his arms Barry had to intervene to keep Owen from inflicting bodily harm on the poor guy. Personally, since I was unconscious for all of it I didn't think it counted.

A timer binged inside his house signaling some yummy goodness was ready for consumption. His eyes drifted towards his camper and the moment was gone. I stepped back clearing my throat awkwardly. Rubbing my arms to stave off a none existent chill I felt a sudden inexplicable loss. Not for the first time I realized our relationship was changing, heading into uncharted waters for both of us. I was a tall woman, but Owen towered over me, making me feel small in comparison. It was a sobering thought to realize I didn't want him to let me go. Somehow we'd gone from being able to barely tolerate each other, to forming a slow friendship, to this...whatever this was.

"Go ahead and sit down. I'll bring out your plate," he told me, moving past me into the house.

I sank into my chair at the table trying not to think too hard on what was happening between us. Not that I didn't care, but I had no experience with something like this so I had to assume everything would just work itself out in time. Having never had a long-term relationship, of any kind, I didn't know what to make of all the signals he was throwing out. Barry told me one day at work he was casually discussing setting me up on a blind date with one of his friends and Owen overheard the conversation. The result was a chair being thrown across the room, and a very angry Owen. Boys were so strange.

In an attempt to solve the "What's going on with Owen and Jo's relationship" I snagged a Cosmo magazine from Vivian. A few days ago Owen had a meeting with Claire at headquarters regarding the raptors, and he ignored my protests that I would be fine for an hour by myself. I put up a pretty mean fight for someone with three cracked ribs, but when the other party in the confrontation can just pick you up and carry you around it's hard to get your point across. Now I understood why toddlers were pissed off all the time.

The cover of the magazine promised it would clearly explain, "4 Signs a Guy's Into You". Figuring it couldn't hurt, and having nothing better to do these days, I took it with me.

According to article, if a guy texts you between noon and 5 p.m. he likes you. Owen texted me all the time, even when I wished he wouldn't. It's not that he was smoothering me with texts. It was that I don't like texting. I'm too afraid people will text me back, or worse call, and then I'll be forced to have conversations with them. I avoid it at all costs. As for Owen, I guess this sign was a yes. For all the good it did me.

Sign number two, we schmooze your pals. This one was a bit tougher to decipher. I didn't have a lot of "pals" to schmooze so I didn't know if this could be used as a variable or not. Hamada and Lowery were the closest things I had to friends, but they were both guys. I'm not sure the "schmoozing" aspect applied to the male species of pals because that just sounded weird to me. I decided to file that sign as undecided.

Sign number three, they take you out during the day. This was an unequivocal yes. Owen and I were practically joined at the hip since I got hurt. We spent so much time together we were probably sharing a lung or something by this point. Considering he could be hanging out with me because I was hurt, and not because he liked my personality, I didn't know if this was a reliable measuring stick either. So, another check in the undecided column.

Sign number four, we e-mail you. I didn't know what to do with this one. First of all, what was the world coming to if the measure of how much a person liked you was directly proportional to how much he emailed you? Nothing says sexy like an exploding inbox full of emails. Whatever happened to buying someone a drink and hitting them with a, "are those space pants because your ass is out of this world"? However, I digress.

As far as I knew Owen didn't e-mail anyone, me included. Claire was always bitching about him not getting this e-mail or that memo. I only know about all that because she yells at me about the same thing. I didn't even know what my Jurassic World email address was so it was hard to take points away from Owen on this one. Yet again, a check in the undecided column.

By the time I was done reading I knew nothing more than I did when I started. Plus, I felt like a tool for turning to Cosmo for advice. I decided to leave it alone for fear I would break something in my brain trying to figure it out. Probably the trick was to not let people know how weird you really are until it's too late for them to back out.

Owen brought out dinner and per the norm it was amazing. If this man was bad at something I had yet to see it. It would be annoying if he wasn't so much fun to look at. If this kept up I was going to get spoiled, and need larger pants.

At 8:30 I was fighting a losing battle trying to not look at my watch. I needed to find an excuse to leave so I could meet Lowery. Our normal nighttime routine these days consisted of eating dinner at Owen's then going back to my house where we watched TV or talked until I fell asleep on the couch. That would not work tonight. I needed to shake Owen and I needed to do it now.

Deciding to go for broke I busted out a fake yawn, "Man, I'm wiped out. I think I'm going to hit the sack early tonight." Even to my own ears it sounded lame.

Owen didn't seem to find it the least bit suspicious. "Alright, need me to walk you home?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks though." Was it really going to be this easy?

Our goodnights exchanged I walked back to my house making an extra effort to look really sleepy. Probably I just looked drunk or high.

At my house I turned off the lights then sat on my couch. I was chewing on my fingernails with my leg bouncing trying to wait the appropriate amount of time before I snuck out after my bedtime. I didn't know how long I should actually wait. Having grown up in the foster care system or on the streets no one ever cared when I came or went so I had zero practice at stuff like this. All this cloak and dagger bullshit was exhausting my patience. Why was patience a virtue? Why couldn't hurry the fuck up be a virtue instead?

After 10 minutes I couldn't wait anymore and peeked through my blinds. Owen's outside lights were already off, and I couldn't see him anywhere so I grabbed my keys leaving my house. I stopped halfway to my Jeep because I realized I was actually tiptoeing. I rolled my eyes, some stealth ninja I was turning out to be.

I started my Jeep making sure to keep the headlights off as I backed out onto the dirt road. Once I was a few miles away from my house I flipped on the headlights, making my way to the east side of the island to meet Lowery.

It took about 10 minutes to get to the turnoff. If you didn't know it was there you would never see it. It was barely more than a glorified footpath through the jungle. A little more than a half-mile down the path the jungles dense foliage opened up exposing an expansive cliff that dropped down about 100 feet. There was a small patch of beach at the bottom that was only accessible during low tide. Huge caves were cut out of the side of the cliff and probably housed bats or something equally as creepy.

Lowery found the spot while scouring maps of the island years before construction actually started. Lowery was the most paranoid person I knew, but according to him it's not paranoia if they are really after you. I slowly walked down the dirt path to the beach spotting Lowery pacing back-and-forth, his flashlight bouncing in time with his steps.

"Hey Lowery," I called out by way of a greeting, walking across the beach to meet him. The closer I got the more I could see how nervous he looked. He was sweating despite the cooler temperatures tonight, and he couldn't look me in the eye. "What's wrong? Are you OK?"

"Jo, I'm sorry..." he started, but never finished as two figures emerged from the caves cloaked in shadows. I immediately went for the gun holstered at the small of my back, aiming at the approaching threats as I pulled Lowery behind me. Lowery yelped, turning to face the caves his flashlight illuminating the figures. My mouth dropped open, and I whipped my head towards Lowery silently demanding an explanation.

"Hey Jo, fancy meeting you here. Wanna put the gun away?" Owen said, trying to sound nonchalant. He wasn't fooling me with that tone. There was rage in his eyes.

I dropped my gun to my side, speechless, looking back at Owen and Barry. Of course Barry was here too. Did Owen do anything without Barry? My mouth opened and closed a few time, but I couldn't seem to form a coherent word, much less sentence. My brain had officially short-circuited. I couldn't process the presence of these two, but I could bitch slap Lowery.

"What did you do?" I turned, glaring at him as I took a step forward. Owen moved quickly, placing himself in front of Lowery and effectively cutting me off. I snapped my eyes up to his, my mouth in a hard line.

"I think the better question is, what are you doing?" he snapped. "Because from where I'm sitting you're taking reckless chances."

"How do you even know about any of this?!" Now I was pissed. I wasn't being reckless. Yet.

"Lowery volunteered the information," Owen answered.

"That's not exactly...I wouldn't say..." Lowery supplied as Owen turned to look at him. He quickly dipped his head, letting his words fade.

"The way I understand things, you have Lowery here risking his job to hack into an InGen secure sever. Is that about the gist of it?" Owen asked, his tone furious.

"I wouldn't let anything happen to him," was my rebuttal.

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

We were nose to nose at this point. Owen's fists were clenched at his side, his body tight with anger. I didn't understand where it was coming from. I had this under control. Besides, he barely tolerated Lowery most of the time and now he was suddenly president of his fan club. Barry cleared his throat, reminding me that there were other people on this beach besides the two of us.

"I think we should focus on what Lowery has to say. The what or why is irrelevant now," Barry voiced, ever the politician.

I holstered my gun, crossing my arms over my chest, looking out at the ocean. I tapped my finger against my forearm, gauging the implications of having Owen and Barry involved in this. I could protect Lowery. I had a plan to keep him safe. Owen and Barry threw my entire plan off kilter. How could I possible protect them all? Dread was building in my gut as thought of every possible bad scenario. I couldn't let anything happen to them. They were my friends. They were literally all I had.

"Well, ah, I've made some progress getting past their firewalls. Their system has triple redundancy and operates completely outside Masrani's normally protocols. Which is weird. I'm not sure anyone even realizes how well insulated InGen's research actually is," Lowery explained, pushing his glasses up on his nose.

"So you found something?" I said turning to him.

"Um, well, no. I mean, I have found some research, but it's nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that everyone in the company doesn't have access to or would find strange."

I turned back to the ocean sighing. If Lowery couldn't find anything it was because it wasn't there. I was wrong. This was a new feeling for me. It sucked.

"I'm sorry I asked you to take such a big risk for nothing. I appreciate you giving it a shot," I told him, moving past everyone back towards the dirt path. I needed some alone time and some ice cream to digest all this.

"Wait, I didn't say there was nothing," Lowery called after me. I froze, turning slowly.

"What did you find?" Owen inquired.

"There is an isolated server housing terabytes of information that isn't connected back to the system. That's highly unusual. I can't access the server's contents without physically getting into the server room, but I did see something interesting in some associated files which were accessible. The lab keeps records on every dinosaur in the park, not surprising. What is surprising is there were two shadow files on the computer I hacked that essentially had nothing in them but filler information made to look like actual files."

"Which two?" Barry asked, stepping closer to Lowery.

"The Velociraptors and something called an Indominus Rex," he answered.

We all stood in a circle, the only sound the crashing of the ocean waves on the beach.

Why would InGen keep the raptor files off the main network, and what the hell was an Indominus Rex?

* * *

 **angelicedg: Well, they are in on her suspicions, but not really because she volunteered it. Oh well, she's got more help now.  
**

 **Mystery Guest: Thanks! Hope you liked this one :)**

 **animagirl: Yeah, Hoskins sucks! I watched it, funny! Thanks for telling me about it.**

 **xxyangxx2006: I agree...Hoskins needs a right hook to the temple. That guy is cray cray :) Thanks for reading!**

 **Rachel: Thanks for reading and don't worry about Jo and Owen. Those crazy kids will figure it out, eventually :)**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: So, that was based on a true story. My Dr. wanted to put me on daily meds for migraines. It took him 20 minutes to go over all the side effects. Ridiculous! I told him if I shouldn't have to choose between anal leakage and my brain feeling like it was boiling in it's own juices so I asked for door #3. He said there was no door #3. I told him to build one, put prescription pain meds behind it, then call me. That guy is a sadist!  
**

 **Storylover00: Thanks so much! Hope you enjoyed the latest :)  
**


	17. Chapter 17

"I'm not that up-to-date on my dinosaur history so feel free to stop me if I'm wrong, but whatever it is you just said isn't a real dinosaur, right?" I asked the group. They all shook their heads no. "That's what I thought."

"What did it say about the raptors?" Owen inquired, his voice steady though I saw him clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. He was mildly irritated about my whole stealth plan with Lowery, but he was on a whole different level now that the girls were involved. "Did you find anything that pointed to what that Domino Rex thing actually is?"

"Indominus Rex," Lowery corrected. Owen scowled; he was not a happy camper tonight. "Right, not important, and no. The files for both dinosaurs look like basic research, theories and some reports from you guys, but like I said most of the files are inaccessible remotely. I couldn't access any tangible information on either dinosaur."

While it appeared my hunch about InGen being a bad little donut was correct we still didn't have any hard evidence with which to nail them to wall. Metaphorically speaking of course.

"That's it then. If we can't get to the information there isn't a lot we can do," Barry stated. Thank you Negative Nancy.

"Well, maybe…," I pondered, a vague idea forming in my mind.

"Jo, the only way to access those files would be to at the server itself. Before you ask, I checked, and that server is located on the top floor in the most highly secure part of the building. It requires an access card that only a handful of people have. I mean, what do you plan to do, steal an access card and break into the server room?" Lowery laughed at the impossible notion.

"Pretty much," I told him. Owen and Barry's eyes swung around to me.

Lowery cleared his throat instantly sobering, "Oh, well, OK."

"Barry, why don't you and Lowery call it a night. We're not coming up with a plan now. I'll link up with you tomorrow at work," Owen said, dismissing the pair in a clipped tone.

I started walking behind them towards the path hoping Owen wouldn't notice. It had not escaped my attention he hadn't said my name when he'd essentially ended our meeting. The last thing I wanted was to be marooned on this beach, alone with Owen, with high tide imminent.

Before I could make a break for it Owen's hand shot out ending my hasty retreat, "Mind hanging back for a minute?" He said it like a question, but the hard look in his eyes told me he wasn't really asking. High tide it was then.

I looked longingly as Barry and Lowery made the trek back up the path leaving me alone with one furious raptor trainer. I shifted my weight back and forth anxiously awaiting his next move. I decided my best course of action was to just wait until he showed his cards. No need to agitate an already riled up animal.

After about two minutes of waiting I was out of patience.

"Are you going to say something or just stand there all dark and broody?" I asked flippantly. Owen's eyes narrowed on mine, and I took a tentative step back. Probably not the best way to approach this situation.

"Do you really think baiting me is in your best interest right now?"

"No?" I was in uncharted waters right now. I didn't know how to handle upset, unpredictable Owen. Especially when I wasn't sure exactly what he was pissed about. Was he pissed about my no so secret meeting with Lowery? Was he mad that InGen was keeping hidden files on his girls? Was he pissed the Cowboys were having another off year? It was just too hard to call at this point.

He exhaled harshly through his nose, dragging his hands through his hair in obvious frustration. I instantly felt like a douchebag. Whatever he was feeling right now, save for the Cowboys sucking, it was because of me. Owen had gone above and beyond the call of duty for me since my injury, and this was how I repaid him. With secrets and lies. It was no wonder I couldn't manage to keep anyone in my life for more than a few weeks. I was a bad friend, and a worse person. My heart constricted with fear at the thought of pushing Owen too far and losing him.

"How long have you known?" I asked softly.

"Since the bonfire." My eyes widened in surprise. Fucking Lowery and his big mouth.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I wanted you to trust me enough to tell me yourself," he responded sadly, turning away from me. "I came tonight because I was worried you might do something rash without thinking it through."

That pretty much described my entire existence. My eyes dropped to the beach, filling with tears I couldn't hold back. He was waiting on me to trust him, to come to him with my suspicions and I'd let him down. It was like watching a tape on rewind. I always managed to ruin anything good in my life, and Owen was one of the best things I'd ever come across. I was the definition of a failure. He looked so disappointed and hurt by my actions I almost couldn't stand it. He didn't understand I hadn't kept it from him because I didn't trust him. It was exactly the opposite. I kept it from him because I couldn't bear the thought of dragging him into one of my harebrained schemes only to see him hurt as a result.

"I do trust you," I almost cried, "I didn't tell you because I couldn't protect you if this went sideways."

I was shocked to realize the truth of my statement. Stunned, even. I trusted Owen. In every sense of the word, and it terrified me. Somehow he had become that voice in the back of head that made me strive towards better things. He was someone whose opinion I valued with the utmost importance. He was my best friend, and something more I still couldn't put a label on. Holy shit. When had this happened? I'm a fairly observant person, but this revelation took me completely by surprise.

I had never had such a devout feeling of blind trust in anyone. Most people probably grew up surrounded by feelings of trust from their parents, their family, even their friends. I'd never had anyone to count on except myself. Until Owen. He was a solid presence in my life. As steadfast and reliable as anyone I'd ever met. Plus, he was extremely easy to look at. Especially when he was dressed like a cross between the Crocodile Hunter and a Special Forces Soldier. The man was a force to be reckoned with that was for sure. A body like his with a face like that made it damn near impossible to keep your clothes on when he smiled at you. Believe me, I'd been fighting the temptation for months (as had every other woman on the island).

Owen stepped in front of me, tipping my head up with his hands so he could look at me. A tear escaped my eye, running down my cheek. Another first for me, crying in front of someone. This whole night was full of horrendously, embarrassing firsts. My life was an always evolving disaster. I do a good job of pretending everything is fine, but when it's late at night and I'm all alone I can admit I've never been fine. It was the emotional equivalent of walking around with your sock sliding off inside your shoe. Annoying, and terribly inconvenient.

Owen's thumb brushed across my cheek, whipping the tear away, his gaze softening, "I appreciate the gesture Jo, but you don't need to protect me. I can handle myself."

Oh, I knew that first hand. Owen was a one man wrecking crew when he needed to be. Problem was you couldn't punch your way out of every situation, much as I might like to try.

"Yeah, well, there isn't a whole lot you can do if they just up and fire you. I couldn't let that happen. I know how much the girls mean to you."

He smiled at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders as he led us to the path. Apparently, the interrogation was over. The look in his eyes told me he wasn't just worried about losing his girls, and just like that those fucking butterflies were doing laps in my stomach. This man and his freaking dimples were going to be the death of me.

"Just out of curiosity, how were you planning to explain Lowery's involvement if your evil plot was uncovered?"

"First of all, my plot was not evil. Second, I would just tell them I held a gun to his head and made him do it," I answered honestly, sniffling a little.

"And you couldn't say the same about me?"

We had just reached the top of the hill, and I had to stop I was laughing so hard. My ribs protested the action. Owen was truly oblivious to his entire persona. No one in their right mind would believe I could not only get the drop on Owen, but maintain control for any amount of time. Not without a trail of bodies a mile long in his wake.

"I don't think anyone would believe I coerced you with the threat of physical violence," I patted him on the back as I looked around for my Jeep. I'm not that great at math, but I was only counting one Jeep in the vicinity. Owen's. "What…where the hell is my Jeep?!"

"Barry took it. You can pick it up tomorrow at the paddock," Owen smiled brightly at me.

Come again? I didn't have a response for this.

Was this my punishment? I had been a bad girl and planned a secret meeting so now I had to walk all the way home?

I was suddenly over my new found affection towards Owen, and was back to our status quo of me wanting to murder him, slowly. My brain was so enamored with the idea of wrapping my hands around his throat and choking the life out him I hadn't noticed he was already sitting astride his motorcycle looking at me expectantly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I was genuinely confused at this point. I thought I was facing a 20-mile road march home.

"Are you going to get on or just stand there all night?" he asked, gesturing to the space behind him.

Stand there all night, definitely.

"But, but, that's your bike." I'm really good at stating the obvious.

"Motorcycle."

"Whatever."

"Josephine King, are you nervous to get on my motorcycle?" he taunted, clearly enjoying my displeasure.

Hell fucking yes I was nervous to get on the back of his motorcycle, but not for the reasons he thought. Getting on the motorcycle would require me to press my body up against Owen's muscular, tight, extremely sexy body. I would have to wrap my arms around his lean, ripped stomach.

Oh Jesus, I might pass out just thinking about it.

Had it gotten hotter out here or was it just me?

I fanned my face as I swallowed the lump in my throat, my eyes darting around the jungle. I couldn't do this. Well, that wasn't technically true. I could definitely do this, but not without molesting him. That wouldn't be safe. There were laws against driving and doing that kind of...stuff. There was probably a bus or some kind of public transportation I could take, right? I just needed to explore my options.

"Jo, you look ready to bolt. I promise it's totally safe. You know I'd never let anything happen to you."

Good, this was good. He thought I was nervous about riding on the bike because it could mean death in a fiery motorcycle related crash. That was better than what was really going on inside my head. My inner slut was stripped down to her Victoria Secret best imploring me to get my ass on the back of that motorcycle this instant. I shook my head rapidly back and forth telling that sex crazed lunatic to shut up.

Owen looked sincerely concerned at this point. I closed my eyes and gave my hormones a stern "down" command as I shuffled towards the motorcycle. I swung my leg over the machine settling onto the back. There were at least five inches between Owen and me. If I scooted back any further I'd fall off.

"Uh Jo, you're going to have to get a little closer for this to work."

Oh dear lord sweet baby Jesus.

I let out a little whimper as I slid forward, plastering my front to his back. I slowly wrapped my arms around his waist tentatively, and was reminded of one of our first conversations when he'd told me we didn't need a motorcycle if I wanted my arms around him. My inner slut had donned three-inch slut shoes, and was now swinging on a stripper pole like a pro. Jesus, that woman needed to get laid.

Owen kicked started the motorcycle, and I instantly squeezed my arms around his waist in response. Everywhere I touched was rock hard muscle, and my mouth went dry. This whole thing was like a biblical experience. I decided if I died right here, right now, I'd be OK with that. The really sad part was we hadn't even started moving yet. He revved the engine, and I think I may have moaned a little.

Owen cleared his throat, shifting slightly as he turned around to look at me, "Not that I don't enjoy all the noises coming out of your mouth right now, but if you don't stop we won't be leaving this spot any time in the near future."

Oh. My. God.

I was so excited by the sheer possibilities I may have peed a little bit. Fucking kill me now.

I bit my lip, burying my head into Owen's back as we shot forward through the jungle. I don't remember any of the ride home. It may have taken two minutes, it may have lasted a lifetime. I spent the entire ride memorizing everything about Owen. The way his body moved as he piloted the motorcycle with expert precision, his smell, the feel of our bodies pressed together. By the time he pulled up to my house I was lightheaded, and more than a little dazed. I awkwardly lumbered off the motorcycle like a baby giraffe taking its first steps

"Thanks for the ride," I mumbled, retreating towards my house with a stumble.

I only made it a few steps before I was swung around, Owen's lips crashing down on mine. His arms snaked around my waist mindful of my ribs, pulling me flush against him. Holy hell, pressed up against Owen twice in one night. It was like winning the lottery. A girl could get used to this.

This kiss was nothing like the chaste kiss we had shared weeks before. No, this kiss was filled with passion and desperation. I felt like a little kid spinning with my head hanging off the end of a merry go round. I wrapped my hands around his neck and threaded my fingers into his hair, pulling him even closer. I felt his tongue brush across my lower lip slowly, and was pretty sure I whimpered in response, my legs feeling shaky beneath me as I opened my mouth to him. I had done my fair share of kissing, but this was like checking something off a bucket list.

The need for oxygen made us pull apart, but I'll have it be known I'd have been happy to simply pass out from oxygen deprivation. Owen's gaze drifted all over my face as he sported a lazy grin. We were both breathing hard, and I fought the urge to wince at deep breaths. These ribs were killing my game. His eyes flicked down towards my ribs, and I knew he'd noticed my discomfort. He shook his head slightly, a grin tugging at his lips as I attempted to play off the pain.

"Get some sleep, and take your pill. I can tell you're in pain," Owen said lightly, placing a kiss to my forehead. "Goodnight."

I nodded my head and he gave me a crooked smile as he walked back to his motorcycle. I watched him drive back to his bungalow in the dead of night with the feeling that everything had just changed. Was it really possible for your world to flip upside down with one kiss? I looked out towards the ocean, taking a deep breath of the sea salt air. For the first time in weeks I felt like my relationship with Owen was on solid ground. I still didn't know where it was headed, but I could live with what I knew for now. I knew we cared about each other, and there was a feeling that we were on the edge of something much more.

Turning to walk towards my house I knew the firming up of our relationship had come at an opportune time. There was a storm brewing on the horizon, and it would take all our collective expertise to navigate it successfully.

Lowery had uncovered some potentially damaging evidence about InGen's involvement in the raptor program, and possibly some kind of genetic manipulation. The question still remained, what were they planning and what did it mean for the future of the park? I knew I needed to find out, but I had an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. I paused at my door, the feeling was dread. I was scared. Not for myself, but those I'd dragged into my crazy world. There were other people involved; people I now understood I cared about.

Lowery. Barry. Owen.

They had somehow become my family. The thought of losing any of them was a possibility I simply couldn't allow to come to pass. I was going to find out what InGen was planning.

The only question was, could protect everyone in the process?

* * *

 **animagirl: Don't be upset with Owen, I don't think he means to be that way...I think he is struggling with his feelings for Jo and worries she will get herself into a situation she can't get out of. She's more of a beg forgiveness than ask permission type of woman and that might hinder her ability to keep breathing...don't abandon us :)  
**

 **angelicedg: Me too! Yeah, Jo underestimated them (she should have known better, Owen's probably a ninja in his spare time)...probably won't happen again.**

 **xxyangxx2006: Thanks so much! I think Jo was slightly delusional if she thought she could pull this all off with just Lowery...she's got help now whether she wants it or not.**

 **casper6six6: Thanks! Hope you liked the latest chapter :)**

 **GayMexicanBatman: Thanks for reading and to answer your question...keep reading and we shall see.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: Yeah, I couldn't make half this shit up...my life is ridiculous sometimes. Jo is my therapeutic outlet. If I could kick ass like she does my life would perfect because I would basically be a superhero :)**

 **Mystery Guest: Thanks for reading and yes I will be incorporating the movie into the story in an AU type setting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter...keep reading!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thank you, thank you! Hope you keep reading.**

 **Storylover00: Jo and Owen are about to get this party started...enjoy!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Your mission should you choose to accept it...**

* * *

A few weeks later we were no closer to a viable solution to our problem of breaking into the highly secure server room. Sure, I had come up with some pretty amazing ideas, but they were largely ignored by the group for some reason. After I suggested I sky dive off of a helicopter and through an air vent located on the roof Owen confiscated my Mission Impossible DVDs, and kindly asked me to refrain from helping formulate the plan. Since shortly thereafter I got medical clearance to return to work I didn't burn his bungalow down in protest. I still think the air vent was a viable option should we need it.

Since today was Sunday, and we had nothing better to day no matter how hard I tried to come up with something, Owen decided to start his DIY extension for his house, aka "the shed". I was supposed to help, but after I inadvertently shot a nail out of the nail gun into his camper he gave me a computer and promptly sat me down in a lawn chair. In my defense I've never been around power tools before, that could happen to anyone. However, I think I got the better end of the deal considering Owen and Barry were currently drenched in sweat building what essentially looked like a glorified shack while I sipped a cold beer, setting up Owen's email on his laptop.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help? That nail gun accidentally discharging was a one time thing," I called over to the pair. I didn't really want to help, but felt obliged to offer.

"If I hadn't moved that nail would be in my leg," Owen responded dryly.

"So, no?"

"No!" both Owen and Barry yelled at the same time. Jeez, almost shoot someone with a nail gun one time and they get all kinds of touchy.

"Alrighty then, let me know if you change your mind," I hollered, finishing up the Outlook setup, "I've almost got your email setup. How is it you've worked here this long and haven't done this? I'm surprised Claire hasn't murdered you in your sleep."

As soon as the system installed Owen's inbox exploded, the bing of incoming mail so constant it sounded like a hum. The red dot in the corner was climbing up towards 100 at an impressive rate. I didn't blame Owen for his aversion to email, it sucked, but this was cray cray.

"Well, the good news is I got your email account set up," I said, grimacing as the email count hit the hundred mark and showed no signs of slowing down.

"And the bad news," Owen replied, walking over to peer at the computer.

"You have 387 unread emails."

"I guess we know what you'll be doing today," he said, smiling.

"What! Why me? This is your email. You deal with it!" I screeched, standing up, attempting to hand him the laptop. Email was the devil. It was the equivalent of someone walking into your living room, crapping on the floor, and then expecting you to do something with it.

I had a hard time keeping up with my own email account, and by hard time I meant I walked around pretending to know what people were talking about when they referenced anything they sent me. It worked for me. However, sorting out this catastrophe was where I drew the line. Owen put his hands on his hips looking at me expectantly. I was getting ready to deliver the mother of all tongue lashings when I noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt. I let my eyes roam across his chest, down the flat planes of his abs, to that sexy V at his hips that disappeared underneath his board shorts.

I was fascinated watching the beads of sweat roll down his chest to his abs before disappearing behind the waistline of his shorts. I've never wanted to be a bead of sweat so bad before in my life. Licking my lips I resisted the urge to fan my face. Had someone cranked up the heat out here or something?

I wasn't thinking about his email anymore, in fact, I forgot what we were talking about all together. I wasn't sure I could form words at this point. It should be a crime to look that good in just board shorts and sweat. I wonder how dedicated Owen was to building that shed or if I could convince him to spend his time in a more "productive" manner. My inner slut had dug out her copy of advanced Kama Sutra and was brushing up on the finer details of The Bridge position. Personally, I think she may be overestimating my athletic ability on that one, and most definitely my flexibility. Just sayin'.

"See something you like?" he said in a deep voice saturated in desire, taking a step closer to me.

Yes, yes I did.

In fact, I hadn't seen something I liked this much since I'd seen Wendy Drake ride her brand new pink bicycle to school after Christmas break when I was nine years-old.

Just like that bike, I wanted to grab Owen, drag him home, and inspect him much, much closer.

Owen leaned over whispering in my ear, "While I'm all for you inspecting me to your heart's content, Barry's here."

I shot back away from him covering my mouth with my hands. I said that out loud?! Oh good lord, just kill me now.

"Besides, you did almost shoot me with a nail gun so you owe me on the email, don't you think?" He walked past me, slapping me lightly on my ass as he went.

"It wasn't even close to you!" I yelled, "And don't slap my ass or I will shoot you! On purpose!"

Owen just laughed, rejoining Barry to continue their man project. I huffed even though no one was around to see it, sitting back in the lawn chair looking at the laptop. While I think Owen was overreacting with the nail gun incident, it would have only grazed his leg after all, laptop duty was better than the other option. Trying to pretend like I was contributing to the shed while really fantasizing over Owen's half-naked body standing right next to Barry. My dignity, and my lady garden, was safer with the computer.

I decided to start with the newest emails and work my way down. Most were irrelevant since someone else had either responded or the email was so old it obviously wasn't important. There were numerous emails requested progress reports on the raptors, mostly from InGen, Hoskins specifically. Deleting those without reading them made me smile, a lot.

About two-thirds of the way down I saw an email from Simon's secretary, Skeletor, with the subject 'Annual Investors Gala'. Opening it I noticed almost everyone in the company was included on the 'to' line. It outlined the details surrounded the upcoming event to be held at headquarters. Scrolling down, I saw that Masrani Global Corporation had invited numerous potential investors to the party in hopes of securing funding for the park. Attendance at this event for employees was mandatory, and the attire was listed as formal.

I sat back in the lawn chair, biting my lip in contemplation. The gala was in a little over a month, and almost everyone on the island would be there. According to the invitation the event was being held on a private floor in the headquarters building at the main park, on the same floor as the server room as fate would have it. Slowly, but surely a plan was forming in my mind.

I grabbed my cell phone quickly dialing Lowery. For this to work I would need to ensure a few details were covered first.

"Hey Jo," Lowery answered.

"Hey, did you get an invite to the investor's gala next month?"

"Yeah, I think so. I'm pretty sure everyone got one."

"You're not going. You're going to be in the control room that night," I spoke rapidly, the idea taking shape in my mind.

"I am?" He sounded disappointed.

"Yes, but don't worry I'll make it up to you." I didn't know _how_ I would make it up to him, but I would. Maybe I could try to convince Vivian he wasn't a creepy stalker. "Before, you said there were only a few people with access to server room."

"Yes, there are only five people who have access."

"And they will all be at the gala that night, right?" I questioned.

"For sure, Mr. Masrani is on a rampage about 100% attendance."

"Who are the five people who have access?" Please let there be someone on the list I could use.

"Hold on, let me check." I heard him typing in the background. "OK, Craig Simmons, Alan Watson…"

"Watson. Is that the short, kind of heavy set guy who's balding and is always starring at my ass when we're in the cafeteria?" I asked him.

"Yeah, that's him. Jo, what…"

I hung up the phone, dropping the laptop into the lawn chair and racing towards Owen and Barry. I rounded the bungalow, the two of them deep in discussion on whether they should bolt the addition directly into the camper or build a frame instead. Here's an idea, light the thing on fire.

"I know how to get to the server!" I said impatiently.

They both stopped talking, turning to stare at me.

"Jo, if this involves a parachute and an aircraft of any kind…" Owen started.

I glared at him. "No smartass, next month is the annual investor's gala at headquarters. Everyone will be there, which means the server room will be empty. That's the perfect opportunity to sneak in and poke around."

I glanced back-and-forth between them as they silently considered my plan. They both seemed skeptical.

"That takes care of the server room being empty, but we still need an access card to get in," Owen pointed out.

"I'll take care of that," I assured him, bouncing back and forth of my feet. We finally had an opening and I was pumped up. It was a shame I'd have to wait a whole month to put my amazingness on display.

"Care to fill us in on the details?" Owen asked pointedly.

Not really.

"One of the guys who works there has a soft spot for my ass," I told him.

Barry burst out laughing as Owen frowned, his eyes narrowing on me.

"Want to run that by me one more time?" he asked, his jaw ticking slightly.

"The guy likes me or at least likes to look at me. I'm going to borrow his access card. Discreetly of course."

"By borrow, I'm assuming you mean steal?" Barry asked, smiling bright. He knew me so well.

"Technically no, I'm not going to keep it so it's not considered stealing." Didn't he watch Law and order? "I'll leave it in the server room after we're done that way when he eventually finds it he'll think he just accidentally left it," I smiled back at him.

"It's as good a plan as any," Barry said, turning to Owen who hadn't moved an inch. I wasn't sure he was even breathing. The veins on his throat were protruding, and he was opening and closing his fists methodically.

"How exactly do you plan to just borrow a highly restricted access card?" Owen asked in a clipped tone. Jeez, hadn't this man learned I was unstoppable when I put my mind to something diabolical. It was were I made my money, and this time I was aiming for the jackpot.

"They're called boobs Owen."

Owen's eyes flicked down to my chest with a crooked grin, and I resisted the urge to puff out my boobs. Sports bras didn't offer a very realistic interpretation of what I had to offer. Barry, on the other hand, had his eyes trained on the ground with the focus of a tomahawk missile. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't move his head if a nuclear bomb exploded in the front yard.

"Did you just quote Erin Brockovich?" he asked smiling slightly.

"Maybe." I've had way too much free time lately.

"If you steal his access card he'll report it and have a new one issued before the day is out," Owen supplied, eyebrows raised. This guy was a one-man rain cloud on my parade today.

"Borrow, not steal. And that's why I won't _borrow_ it until the day of the gala. I can arrange for us to run into each other that afternoon. By the time he realizes it's missing we'll have what we need," I said smugly. I was on a roll today.

Owen shook his head, looking out towards the ocean. Barry and I eyed each other silently, he shook his head, a smile on his face. It was our best option. Hell, it was our only option.

"We need someone in the control room that night. Otherwise we'll be flying blind once we get in the lab," Owen spoke up, his back still turned to us.

"Lowery. I can get him uninvited to the gala, and suggest the safest place for him with potential investors roaming around is the control room. It won't be that hard of sell considering how outspoken he is about the park," I supplied.

"This could work Owen. If we are serious about finding out what InGen is doing concerning genetics, not to mention the raptors, this is our best shot," Barry said.

"It's a good plan," Owen replied, finally turning to face us.

I jumped up and down clapping my hands. Finally, we had something we could use. A plan that would finally propel from our stagnant position. We could only hope all the risk would be worth the reward. I had to admit, as reluctant as I was to have others involved in this plot there was no way I'd be able to see this to fruition without them. It was a strange feeling to depend on people. It was scary as shit to realize I cared bout those same people.

Taking a deep breath I tried to calm myself down. We could pull this off, it was a solid plan. I mean, all we had to do was borrow a highly restricted access card from one of only five people, break into a secure server without getting caught, and take a look at classified corporate information. Easy.

"You're going to need a dress Josephine," Owen commented sweetly.

"Wait, what?" I asked, suddenly confused.

Owen slung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close. "It's a formal event. I'm assuming tuxedos for guys and evening gowns for women."

Crap.

Every time I thought I had my ducks in a row, I turned around and one of those fuckers had waddled off.

* * *

 **OtakuWhovian1224: Patience young grasshopper, it's coming :) Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks, I'm glad you liked it!**

 **xxyangxx2006: Thanks for the great review...hope you enjoyed the latest.**

 **DesertVulpesZerda: I'm too lazy to do most things pretty much all the time, no judgement here :) I'm digging Jowen, nicely done!**

 **animagirl: You're back! Yeah! Thanks for sticking it out and for thinking Owen is hot again ;)**

 **angelicedg: You are right, Jo's never had any kind of relationship like the one she has with Owen. She's flying by the seat of her pants...thanks for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Confession, everyone had really great ideas about how Jo's dress selection would go down. When I saw them in the reviews I thought "what a great idea". Unfortunately, I had already written this chapter by the time those came rolling in. Hope this version doesn't disappoint.**

 **The plan is officially underway...**

* * *

The next morning I was in the valley taking a look at one of the park's most "innovative" attractions. At least that's how the walking brochure from Masrani Global was explaining it to me.

"The guests will be able to maneuver the gyrosphere's all over the valley which provides a very interactive experience with the assets," the guy rambled, gesturing animatedly to what appeared to be a life sized hamster ball.

I swear since I took this job I whispered "what the fuck?" to myself at least 20 times a day.

"What's your name?" I asked, looking at the man in question. I pulled my sunglasses down to the tip of my nose as I took in his ensemble. He was wearing a suit, complete with a vest and shiny black shoes, in the middle of a valley, in Central America. I was baking in the 90 degree heat and I had the good sense to not dress like I was attending a funeral. Where did Simon find these people?

"Me, I'm Dan. Dan Weston."

"First thing Danny, don't call them assets. Their animals, dinosaurs if you want to get technical. Second, what safety protocols do you have out here for the guests and animals?" I questioned.

"Well, it's Dan not Danny," he corrected. I simply stared at him in return. "But that's not important. Well, the gyrosphere's are rated to stop a .50 caliber bullet so the guests will be safe."

Because dinosaurs regularly fire off .50 caliber bullets.

"And the dinosaurs?"

"I'm not sure I get your point ma'am." The lines in between his eyes made his confusion pretty easy to decipher. I guess I'd just have to break this down Barney Style.

"Well, are you just planning on letting the guests roam wherever the wind takes them? Do you have any fences in place to keep the animals in certain zones?" I took my sunglasses off wiping the sweat from my forehead. These were only two of the billion questions I had, and I'd only been out here 20 minutes. These people had too much money and not enough common sense.

"Well, no, with the gyrosphere's being able to withstand what they can there isn't really a threat out here," Dan supplied nervously.

So if I was hearing him right there was no danger whatsoever in the valley filled with prehistoric dinosaurs. Yeah, OK.

I shook my head at him in agreement, "Get in the hamster ball Danny."

"I'm sorry?" he muttered, slowly backing up.

"I said, get in the hamster ball." What was I speaking Greek?

Danny reluctantly climbed into the hamster ball looking like the tool I knew he would. There was simply no way a person could maintain a shred of dignity sitting in one of these things. Who comes up with these attraction?

"You said this is rated to stop a .50 caliber bullet, right?" I asked, using air quotes.

"Yes, that's right."

"And because the person who shipped it to you said it was safe you think that's the only safety measure we need in place out here, is that also right?"

"Well...yes," Dan answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

What I was about to do was probably a no-no in the corporate policy handbook, but I saw no other way to help Danny see my point of view. Besides, "fuck it" was a pretty well tested philosophy of mine, it's gotten me through a shit ton of situations. No reason to think it wouldn't work here as well.

I pulled out my Glock, firing three rounds directly into the hamster ball. Danny screamed at the top of his lungs, throwing himself out the small opening, tumbling onto the ground with a shriek.

"Are you crazy?! What the hell are you doing?!" he yelled from the ground.

I'm not crazy, I'm mentally unrestricted. There's a huge difference.

I could have explained the difference, but Danny wasn't looking too receptive to interpretation at the moment. I holstered my gun, walking over to the hamster ball inspecting the glass.

"Well Danny, I'd say you should contact your manufacturer because those bullets are not .50 caliber and that glass looks pretty well broken. Good thing for you it worked a little, huh?"

"You're a maniac! I will be informing Mr. Masrani about this incident," he huffed, standing up as he attempted to salvage his self respect.

"Be my guest Danny. I'll be sure to let Simon know you had no interest in keeping his guests or animals safe out here," I shot back, "You need invisible fences all around this valley to protect the guests and animals alike. I don't give a shit what you rate that glass at, if a guests rolls up on a mother and her young it ain't going to help. These hamster balls need technology that will automatically turn the guests around if they refuse to obey the rules, and can be overridden in the control room if needed. Our only concern isn't just the guests, we have a responsibility to the animals we pulled out of extinction."

I walked back to my Jeep as Danny pulled out his phone, no doubt calling headquarters to tattle on me. These people just didn't understand the significance of what they had done on this island. This wasn't just a park to these dinosaurs, it was their home, and they never asked for spectators. They weren't going to play nice just because we asked them too. We needed protocols to ensure everyone remained safe while maintaining a suitable environment for the dinosaurs to thrive in.

I drove back to headquarters to meet with Sparky the T-Rex paleontologist. Apparently they had a "breakthrough" since our last meeting. I sincerely hoped for my mental stability it was better than the hamster ball breakthrough.

Pulling up to the T-Rex paddock I made my way through the exhibits and down into the plastic tube, Sparky was waiting for me anxiously.

"Hi Jo, come on down. I think you're going to really like this," he said. I really needed to learn this guy's name. "So, the last time we met you were concerned about the guest enclosure being too exposed and the T-Rex having some sensitivity to what was inside."

Not exactly how I'd put it, but for the sake of brevity I nodded my head yes.

"OK, so to address those issues we reworked the plastic to resemble a fallen tree trunk with just a small opening here so the guests can see the feeding," he said, pointing to the window.

I waited for him to get to the big "breakthrough", but he just looked at me like a dog awaiting praise for not shitting on your carpet. I knew I shouldn't have gotten out of bed this morning.

"So, let me make sure I understand. I said it was dangerous to allow guests down here due to the color conditioning of the animal so to fix the problem you decided to decoupage the plastic tube. Is that about right?"

"It's a little more than decoupage…"

"No, it's glorified camouflage. Never mind the T-Rex is a highly intelligent animal that has most of its brain devoted to smell. I'm sure your fake log will do the trick," I snapped.

"Jo, this is the only option. There's no point in having a T-Rex if no one can see it. This is as safe as we can realistically make it."

Therein lied the problem. There was no realistic way to ensure everyone's safety. This island was an accident waiting to happen.

"Yeah, tell that to the guy who gets eaten," I mumbled, "I got it, you tried and it is better than before. I got to run, anything else?"

He shook his head no and I left, heading towards headquarters. I needed to find Simon and ensure Lowery was officially uninvited to the gala. Turns out finding Simon wasn't really necessary, he was waiting for me when I got off the elevator.

"Jo, please tell me you didn't shoot at Mr. Weston," Simon said wearily.

"I didn't."

Technically, I shot at the hamster ball. He just happened to be inside at the time.

"The story Mr. Weston tells is somewhat different." Danny was such a bitch.

I shrugged and Simon sighed. He seemed to do that a lot with me. We made our way to his office where I outlined what actually happened in the valley, more or less. I made sure Simon understood the need for invisible fences for the animals, upgraded technology for remote access, and maybe another layer of safety glass. By the end of our meeting he was less stressed about the encounter. Simon may not like my methods, but he appreciated my results.

Now I needed to bench Lowery.

"So, the investor's gala seems like it's going to be a real shindig," I remarked.

Simon looked up from his paper smiling, "Yes, I believe it will be quite an event. The guests list is almost locked in and I'm anticipating some beneficial results for the park."

"I bet. I personally can't wait. Lowery was telling me yesterday at lunch that he had a special suit made for the occasion," I said non-nonchalantly, walking towards the door.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure really, he said it was a surprise. Something about an homage to the old park." I could already tell Simon was hooked. The man looked terrified of what monstrosity Lowery might unleash on his high rollers. "You OK? You look a little pale."

"I…it…that is not really the message we are trying to convey at the gala," Simon responded meekly.

I paused, pretending to think about the implications of Lowery sporting some gaudy, monstrosity of a suit and how that might impact donations. In reality I was trying to remember if I had anymore Twizzlers in my Jeep.

"Well, if you were worried about something like that you could always request he man the control room that night. There isn't really anyone else qualified to do it alone, and none of the investors would be anywhere near that floor." I felt bad manipulating Simon like this, but I found solace in the fact it was technically what he hired me to do.

Simon rapidly shook his head yes, smiling at me like I was a genius. All in all, it was almost too easy. By the time I left his office Lowery had been uninvited and reassigned to control room duty the night of the gala.

I walked back towards the elevator feeling like our plan was off to a pretty good start. I saw Zara whip by at the speed of light and was reminded I still had a major problem. I ran to catch up with her. Jeez, this woman was fast. She could definitely have a second career as an Olympic sprinter if being Claire's assistant didn't work out.

"Hey Zara, got a minute?" I yelled down the hall to slow her down.

"Jo, hi. What do you need?"

"Well, I don't know if you can help, but I'm not sure who else to ask. I have to go to the gala next month and I need a dress."

She smiled way too bright for someone getting saddled with a favor. It made me nervous and instantly suspicious.

"You're in luck, Ms. Dearing had a designer flown in to make her dress. She's still here so we can have her make yours too."

"I'm sorry, make a dress? No, I meant help me find a dress or maybe show me where to order one online," I clarified. They have that kind of stuff on Amazon, right?

"Jo, don't be ridiculous. Come on, I'll take you up there now," Zara said, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the elevator.

We exited on a private floor reserved for employee living quarters. Zara knocked on a door close to the elevator and a petite, dark haired woman answered.

"Hi Camila, I need a favor," Zara said gesturing to me, "I need one more dress."

"Of course Zara, please come in. I will get Ms. Abelli."

Zara and I were ushered into the living room where two other people smiled at us. Zara greeted them warmly explaining the predicament. They seemed pretty excited about getting a last minute assignment. I still didn't understand why we couldn't just find a dress at the gift shop or something, but Zara kept ignoring my suggestion so I let it go.

"So, are you all designers?" I asked the group.

All of them shook their heads no. "Oh no, we are just Ms. Abelli's assistants," answered one of them. They didn't look like assistants, they looked like a hip hop version of the Three Stooges.

I swung my head to Zara speaking quietly, "Assistants, as in plural? Zara, what are you doing? I don't need a custom made dress for this."

"Shhh," Zara dismissed me as Camila came back into the room.

At first I thought Camila was alone, but then I noticed something or rather someone behind her. She was about the size of a hobbit and probably just as old. She had on coke bottle glasses that made her eyes twice as big as they should be, a dress that in all honesty might be just a T-shirt, and her white hair was pulled back in a severe looking bun that gave me a headache looking at it. Her face was a mass of wrinkles upon wrinkles, she looked almost cartoonish.

She walked up to me, muttering in what sounded like Italian as she slowly walked around me in a slow circle. Every so often she would stop and call out something, which one of the Three Stooges would jot down studiously.

She stopped in front of me, barking out a command. I looked to Zara in question, I didn't speak Italian.

"You need to remove your clothes," said Stooge #2.

"Excuse me?" I'm positive I heard that wrong.

"She needs to take your measurements and to do it accurately you need to remove your clothes. You can keep your bra and panties on," Stooge #2 clarified.

"Aren't you supposed to at least buy me dinner first," I joked.

No one laughed, in fact, Bilbo looked really pissed. I may not speak Italian, but she spoke enough English to already dislike me. I was tempted to tell her she could take her ass back to The Shire, but I needed a dress. If I weren't careful she'd have me in something inspired by Pepto-Bismol.

Rolling my eyes I disrobed with as much dignity as I could muster considering I was standing in front of five strangers. At least I had the good sense to not wear granny panties today. Once I was done Stooge #3 produced a tape measure from somewhere, handing it to Bilbo. With the efficiency of a NASCAR pit crew the four of them measured every inch of my body, dignity be dammed.

Thankfully the whole ordeal didn't take too long; unfortunately I had no idea what this had to do with a dress. Once I was dressed Zara was informed from Stooge #1 my dress would be done in a few weeks, and we were ushered towards the door.

"Wait, she didn't ask me what kind of dress I wanted," I informed Stooge #1.

She smiled condescendingly, "Ms. Abelli is a fashion innovator. Don't worry, you are in good hands."

"I don't want her innovating anything for me. I want simple, plain, boring even," I pleaded.

"Ms. Abelli doesn't do boring, but I assure you her creation will be revolutionary." She punctuated her remark with what I could only describe as Jazz Hands, and I felt a little sick. What had Zara gotten me into?

We were shuffled into the hallway, the door unceremoniously closed in our face. I looked at Zara panicked, but she just smiled like this was all normal. I hated to tell her, but was far from normal.

My dress was in the hands of a woman who could be a distant relative of Bilbo Baggins, and absolutely did not like me. I was probably going to end up wearing a bunny suit reminiscent of A Christmas Story.

I was in trouble.

* * *

 **Italian Rose: Wow! Thanks for the glowing review...it means a lot. Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter :)  
**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Glad you loved it!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I know! I feel the same way...epic! Hopefully it reads as well as it looked in my head.**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Don't worry, Jo's discrete "borrowing" skillz will be on point, LOL! Thanks for reading!**

 **xxyangxx2006: You are right, good timing with the email, but I have a feeling Claire or Simon would have tracked them down in person eventually. Hope you enjoyed!**

 **Skybluewolves: Yeah, Jo inspires those feelings in just about everyone :) Thanks for reading!**

 **Princessdiana516: Ask and you shall receive :) Hope you liked it!**

 **angelicedg: I'm glad you liked that...I always loved that line. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	20. Chapter 20

**My daughter was up all night sick so you have her to thank for this chapter...she say's you're welcome.**

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A few weeks later I was at the raptor paddock shooting the shit with Barry while Owen took the girls through their paces. The gala was tomorrow night, and so far everything was proceeding as planned. Lowery had taken his rejection in stride, especially when I promised to put in a good word for him with Vivian, and I'd gotten the call from Zara today that Bilbo had finished my "revolutionary" creation. Whatever that meant; I was trying hard not to think about it.

"They really accept him as the Alpha, huh?" I asked Barry, handing him the Skittles bag.

"Mostly," he responded taking a handful, then giving me the side eye. "How is it you look like that when you eat like this?"

"Got lucky in the metabolism department," I shrugged. "You all set for tomorrow?"

"Yes, Owen and I will meet you there. You sure you can lift that access card? We're dead in the water without it," Barry questioned.

I popped a Skittle into my mouth, raising my eyebrows at him. Was he really questioning my mojo? He smiled, laughing at me, then returned his gaze to Owen who was just wrapping up. He called out to each of the raptors individually before tossing them a rat (yuck) as a reward for a job well done. I stood up, grabbing my candy and making my way towards the stairs.

"Nice man, they did well today," Barry told Owen.

"Good day," Owen responded modestly. "We need to get them into containment so the vet techs can check them real quick. Then we can let them out for the rest of the day."

Barry nodded, making his way down the stairs to quarantine the girls. Owen and I fell into step beside each other as we walked down the stairs. Without looking at me he held his hand and waited, I dumped a handful of Skittles out into his palm begrudgingly. There was no "we" in sharing, but somehow these two always found ways to siphon my supply of treats. I blamed it on their good looks. It's hard to think straight when you're surrounded by men who look like underwear models.

"You hanging out for a while or do you have some behavior to assess elsewhere?" Owen asked as we walked towards the containment units.

"Actually, Simon wanted a visual inspection of the raptor paddock. Can I knock it out now since the girls are in containment?" Might as well kill two birds with one stone, you know, since technically I was supposed to be working.

"Sure, go ahead around. I gotta head back upstairs, I forgot the buckets, you good by yourself?"

"Yes mom," I said winking.

He shook his head, smiling at me as he headed back up the stairs. I made my way to the first security door hitting the green button, tapping my foot as I waited on the door to rise. Once inside I hit the red button closing it, and repeated the process at the next door. Lord help us if we were ever in a hurry.

I stepped into the raptor paddock, making my way around the enclosure slowly inspecting the walls and security. I made mental notes of any changes I could recall or any evidence the raptors were investigating one area more than another. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Owen speaking with one of the new hires at the top of the catwalk.

I was almost in the middle of the paddock when I heard a bell ring out at the opposite end of the enclosure. I froze looking towards the sound trying to process what I was hearing. Time seemed to stand still as every thought blurred in my head somehow moving agonizingly slow and ridiculously fast all at once. That ringing was a signal the containment units had been opened. I shook my head, that couldn't be right because that would mean the raptors were now in the paddock with me.

All at once everything jumped into fast forward as I spun around on my heel sprinting towards the gate just as Owen yelled my name in a panic. I heard a chirp followed closely by a snarl and knew the raptors had caught my scent. I saw Barry appear on the other end of the gate, pressing the green button briefly creating a small opening at the bottom. There was just enough room for me to dive under. If I could get there before I got eaten.

The gate was only 30 feet away, but I could feel the raptors bearing down on me. I pumped my legs as hard as I could, trying to put some distance between myself and them, but wasn't sure I could make it. I was fast, but I wasn't superhuman. They needed to close the gate. My life wasn't worth one of the raptors getting out.

I saw Owen barrel into the small unit next to Barry, his face white, terror the only emotion I could distinguish. I looked at him, and I can only imagine what he saw on my face in that moment. My breathing was labored as I continued my sprint, but my eyes locked with Owen's as I shook my head once, waving my hand as a signal to close the gate. I attempted to tell him 100 other things too, but it's hard to get your point across when four vicious dinosaurs were trying to eat you.

"No!" Owen thundered, "Move your ass Jo!"

The snap of a jaw from behind me broke my concentration on Owen, and I felt my heart constrict in fear. Holy shit! This was really happening. I'd been in situations before that had me imagining my final moments, but being eaten by dinosaurs was a new one. It didn't sound like a pleasant way to go. A final burst of speed shot through me, propelling me the last few feet towards the gate. As it turned out, the fear of being eaten alive was quite motivational.

I lunged for the opening of the gate with a headfirst dive, barrel rolling under it as my momentum carried me forward with several more rolls before I came to a stop on my back. The gate closed with a 'thump', the raptors slamming into the metal with a violent crash. They snapped, snarled and growled with irritation now that their dinner was now out of reach.

"Am I dead?" I asked, panting on the ground in shock, staring blankly up at the clear, blue sky.

Owen slid to a stop next to me on his knees, assessing my body for injuries with his hands. If I weren't just getting over a near death experience it would have been the highlight of my day. I figured we at least made it to second base. Convinced I was alive and relatively unharmed Owen grabbed me by my shoulders, pulling me up and half into his lap with a crushing hug. My hands automatically went around his waist as I buried my head in his neck, trying to get my breathing under control. Owen ran his hands through my hair whispering softly to me. His voice was my undoing; I clung to his shirt, pulling him closer as I burrowed even deeper into him in an effort to keep it together. His masculine scent engulfed me, a mixture of sweat and the outdoors.

"Jesus, I thought I lost you," he whispered.

I sobbed lightly against his chest, drawing strength from his massive frame. It's not often I feel small given my stature, and I forget sometimes how large Owen actually was, but as he cradled me like a child in his arms I found relief from the terror. He was like a shield I knew nothing could penetrate.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute. I don't want Barry thinking I'm going soft or anything."

Owen choked out a strangled laugh as he rubbed circles on my back, "Please stop almost dying."

"I swear I'm not doing it on purpose," I smiled against him.

He pulled back from me, holding my head in his hands, he shook his head then kissed my forehead before hauling me onto my feet. My legs wobbled a little, and Owen wrapped a hand around my waist, steadying me with a slight squeeze. I smiled up at him in thanks.

"Jo, my god, are you OK?" Barry asked, looking me over from a few feet away.

"I'm fine," I lied, trying to look better than I felt, "I appreciate you opening the gate, but you shouldn't have done it. It wasn't worth the risk."

Owen twirled me around to face him so fast it made me dizzy. "Don't say that. Don't ever say something like that!" he screamed at me. His eyes unfocused, his mind honed in on what could have been. I'd seen that look before in the mirror. It was the look of a man teetering on the edge of a very dark place.

"OK, it's OK," I told him quietly, cupping the side of his face with my hand, forcing him to look at me. He shook his head briefly and I saw his eyes clear as he finally focused on me. He let out a puff of air, sagging slightly before turning towards Barry.

"How did this happen? The girls were in containment and everyone knew Jo was in the enclosure?" he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

"I don't know. We need to check the security footage," Barry responded bitterly. This wasn't just a mistake on someone's part or a lapse in protocol. Things like this didn't just happen.

The guys decided our best bet was to start with the security feeds so we started towards their office. We were making our way out of the last gate when I heard a Jeep start, Owen and Barry not looking up, deep in discussion as they walked. I glanced towards the makeshift parking lot and saw Hoskins flash me a sly grin and a finger wave as he drove off.

I sat in Owen's chair in the office, numbly staring at the desk as I tried to come to terms with the fact that Hoskins had, in fact, tried to kill me. It was a depressing commentary on my life that this wasn't the first time someone had tried to kill me. It was, however, the first time anyone had tried to do it with a dinosaur. I cringed as I thought about how much you'd have to dislike someone to go to this kind of extreme. I mean, there was not liking someone, and then there was trying to feed them to a Velociratpor.

At least I could console myself that Hoskins would get his in the end. I was a pretty big believer in karma. I mean, what else can explain fate fucking you in all sorts of creative ways just when you thought you'd gotten away with murder. My dream job would be driving the karma bus…I'd use it to run Hoskins over. I'm not stupid, or delusional. I understood that I was a lot to handle, and left a particularly bad taste in Hoskins' mouth, but he'd upped the stakes today. I was going to destroy him.

Owen and Barry were hunched over a computer attempting to pull up the security footage from the containment area, but I already knew that would be a dead end. If Hoskins had tried to assassinate me he wouldn't be stupid enough to be caught on film.

"What do you mean it malfunctioned?" Owen hollered, slamming down the mouse. I winced at the sound, debating the merit of telling Owen and Barry my suspicion. It was a delicate subject since Hoskins was their direct supervisor, and I didn't want to risk either of them doing something rash in the name of vengeance. Mainly because if Hoskins was going to wither in pain I wanted to be directly involved.

"I'm not sure, but it recorded nothing but static from the time the girls were put into containment until right after Jo got out," Barry answered, clearly irritated.

"That seems a little too convenient to be accidental," Owen said sarcastically, turning to face me. "Any idea who might want you dead?"

"Well, I did shoot at Danny a few weeks ago, but something tells me he doesn't have the stones to sic raptors on me in retaliation."

Barry laughed, digging a bag of Twizzlers out of his desk and handing me the bag.

It was officially, I loved him.

He'd taken to stashing emergency supplies of sweets at various strategic points for times such as these. I smiled brightly at him, grabbing the bag and shoving a handful of Twizzlers into my mouth. I read on the Internet sugar is good at helping come to terms with traumatic experiences.

"I'm going to take her home. Tell control I want a list of anyone who accessed the paddock in the last 12 hours on my desk tomorrow. If they have time to cross reference that list with people Jo has shot then that would be helpful," Owen told Barry, winking at me.

"Ha, ha."

We said our goodbye's, heading to the parking lot. I was shutting my door when Owen's hand closed around it. He looked at me, debating something internally before coming to a conclusion.

"Will you please come to my house?" he asked, not looking me in the eye.

"Uh, sure. Can I change first or should I come straight there?" He was acting strange. Owen never said please.

"Change, shower, whatever, then come over," he replied, a strange look on his face. I nodded and he walked to his car and left.

Odd.

It wasn't exactly unusual for Owen and I to spend time together outside of work, but normally we just showed up at either others house and took it from there. We didn't wait for invitations or bring a bottle of wine because it's rude to show up empty handed. There was an ease to our relationship that made it appear as if we'd been friends for years when that simply wasn't the case.

This seemed different.

Owen seemed different.

I chucked it up to weird boy behavior because analyzing it anymore made my heart hurt. I made my way home, and took my time showering, letting the hot water pound on my back as I starred at the shower floor.

How many times did that make I had escaped death's call?

I couldn't recall a number, but the ballpark figure in my head said one too many times. Luck would only take me so far. Eventually I'd get sloppy or someone would get lucky and that would be it. The fact that someone was intentionally trying to kill me shifted the odds firmly out of my favor. It was a lot to take in. I thought when I'd left the military and then the F.B.I. that I'd also left behind the sinister murder plots. Guess not. I didn't know how to come to grips with the fact my life was in danger not just from the dinosaurs on the island, but the people on it as well. I opted for my tried and true solution when I had a serious problem and no solution.

I ignored it.

I got dressed in a pair of old, comfortable sweatpants, a T-shirt that had 'Classy Bitch' written in cursive across the front, left my wet hair down, and shoved my feet into flip-flops. A fashion statement it was not, but I was all out of fuck's to give at this point. As I made my way over to Owen's bungalow I saw him leaning against the railing looking out towards the ocean. He was so deep in thought he didn't hear me until I climbed the stairs.

"Your shed looks fancy," I said, gesturing to his newly built "workshop".

He laughed, "No thanks to you. Want a beer?"

"Nah, as it turns out almost dying is exhausting. I'm tired." And if I had any alcohol right now I'd probably starting crying and look even more pathetic.

"Come on inside," he nodded, grabbing my hand. I followed him into his bungalow, sitting down on the couch. It was obvious he had something on his mind he was having a hard time verbalizing so I laid my head on the back of the couch, closing my eyes to wait. I felt Owen sit down next to me. He put his arm around my shoulder pulling me towards him. I let my head roll to his shoulder, sighing.

"I've been through a lot of things, but until today I've never been truly scared," Owen confessed leaning his head against mine.

I opened my eyes, "I'm fine Owen."

"I know you are, but I saw the look on your face. You were ready to die in there, and that terrifies me."

I pulled away from his shoulder so I could look him in the eye. "There's more at stake than my life, and trust me I'm not worth the risk. If even one of those raptors got out it would be devastating. At the very least it would mean the end of your program. I don't want to be the cause of that."

"I understand that, but you have no regard for your own well-being. You're convinced your life is irrelevant, and I hate that. It keeps me up at night."

I looked down at my hands, considering his words. He wasn't wrong. I've never considered my life one of importance so what did it matter if I died in the raptor paddock or anywhere else? I was an orphan who turned into a trouble maker who then briefly morphed into a public servant.

I was no one.

I yawned, belatedly covering my mouth. My eyes felt heavy, and I desperately wanted to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. I didn't have the energy to examine my "issues" right now.

"Come on," he said, pulling me off the couch towards his bedroom.

"What…what are you doing?" Maybe I should have been more specific about _whose_ bed I wanted to crawl in.

"We're going to bed," he stated, continuing into his bedroom. He dropped my hand, moving towards the left side of the bed, closest to the door, taking off his shirt.

I froze in the door, caught between starring at a half naked Owen, and contemplating the two of us sharing horizontal space. Owen pulled back the covers climbing into bed, only now realizing I was rooted in the doorway.

"You alright there? You're looking a little scary."

"Um…I…why exactly am I sleeping in your bungalow of love?" I stuttered, my eyes wide.

Owen chuckled, clearly amused by my anxiety. "Bungalow of love? I like it." He pulled back the covers on the other side of the bed as way of an invitation. "Relax, what I'm proposing is nothing more than sleep, come on."

What?

Just sleep?

Why couldn't we do other stuff?

My inner slut was throwing a temper tantrum in the corner in protest.

"Oh, don't worry, there will be plenty of time for the _other_ stuff," he practically purred, his gaze darkening, "But tonight, I just want you close. I…I need to know you're safe."

I slapped my hands over my mouth, closing my eyes. I really needed to get a handle on this speaking thing. A pretty big part of me was really excited about the idea of doing "other stuff", but I firmly pushed that into a vault in the furthest recesses of my mind, slamming the door shut. I then locked it and shoved a chair under the handle for good measure. Nothing good ever came from me thinking about anything.

While the thought of extracurricular activities with Owen made my blood pressure spike to unhealthy levels it also terrified me. I was positive I wouldn't be able to handle Owen as a passing fling. Something told me "hit it and quit it" wasn't a realistic outcome when it came to Owen Grady, at least for me.

He was more of a "hit it, think about it for the rest of the day only to sneak away from work early to hit it again" kind of guy.

I moved slowly towards the other side of the bed, climbing in about as gracefully as a virgin on Prom night. I normally slept in a T-shirt or a tank top and underwear, but there was not a cold chance in hell I was removing my sweat pants within 50 miles of Owen. It was going to be absolute torture sleeping next to him. I needed as many layers of protection as possible between us.

I laid down, pulling the covers all the way up to my chin, lying stiff as a board. I was as close to the edge of the bed as I could get without falling out. Owen flipped off the light on the bedside table, getting comfortable.

"You can come a little closer. I promise I don't bite. Unless, of course, you ask nicely," he said in a teasing voice beside me.

I yelped in response, inching closer towards the edge of the bed, my mouth dry as I thought about his proposition. Half my ass was now hanging off the bed, and I knew it was going to be a long, dehydrating night.

"I'm good."

I most certainly was the opposite of good. I could feel my heart beating 100 miles an hour in my chest, and I could smell Owen's scent on the pillow, the sheets, the cover, everywhere. It was intoxicating. If I could bottle this stuff I could make a fortune selling it as an aphrodisiac.

"You know who released the raptors today, don't you?" he asked having rolled onto his side to face me.

I turned towards him, pushing my hands underneath the pillow, licking my lips. The moonlight filtering through the bedroom window illuminated his face just enough that I could see the wrinkles in his forehead caused by his frown. I reached over, rubbing my thumb across the lines in a soft caress. I hated that I was the cause of his worry, and because of that I couldn't lie to him.

"Yes."

He drew in a long breath letting it out slowly, "Hoskins."

It wasn't a question.

I nodded, letting my hand drop down to the space between us. He reached his hand out, interlacing our fingers.

"You saw him at the paddock?" I questioned.

"No, but there aren't a lot of people with the access to pull something like that off. Even less who would actually do it," he answered, rubbing circles absent-mindedly on the back of my hand.

"Plus, he's a real douchebag."

"Very true."

I yawned again. "It doesn't matter, we can't prove he did it. Promise me you won't do anything stupid. I can handle Hoskins."

He didn't answer for a long time, drawing deep steady breaths. "I promise. This time."

"Pinky promise," I pressed, holding out my pinky finger.

"What?" He seemed genuinely confused.

"You have to pinky promise," I told him, grabbing his pinky so I could wrap mine around his. "There now you can't do anything or you face the cosmic wrath of the universe."

"Oh, well in that case," he laughed.

I scoffed at him. "It's no joke. Pinky promises are serious business. You don't want to test the cosmic wrath of the universe. She can be a real bitch, trust me."

"We wouldn't want that," he smiled at me, "OK, I pinky promise."

I nodded my head, appeased that he understood the magnitude of his pinky promise oath.

"Besides, worst case scenario I can just shoot him," I joked. Or not.

Owen laughed softly, pulling on my hand. "Come over here, you're about to fall off the bed."

I shifted over, pulling my pillow with me, placing it right next to his. We were both lying right in the middle of the bed, only inches separating us. I felt my eyelids drooping with each blink. It was getting harder and harder to keep them open.

"Goodnight Josephine," he said quietly.

"G'night Grady," I sighed, snuggling down into the pillow.

As I drifted off my last lingering thought was I had never felt this safe and content in my life.

* * *

 **ShezzaBoo0233: Thanks so much! Hope you liked this chapter.**

 **xxyangxx2006: I'm glad you liked Bilbo...creating her was fun. Don't worry, the "big" dress reveal is soon. Thanks for reading!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks again!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I'm glad you liked that one...it was fun to write her. I have this hobbity creature in mind when I was writing and it refused to be denied, LOL!**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for the great review! I agree, the gyrosphere's were ridiculous...had to sneak something in about them. Thanks for the compliment on Jo and for continuing to read.**

 **FrostyMillenium: Thanks for reading and for the awesome review! Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter.**

 **Storylover00: Thanks again...don't worry the dress reveal is forthcoming.**

 **angelicedg: I loved writing that, glad you liked it. Those hamster balls in the movie just cracked me up and begged to be shot at...LOL!**


	21. Chapter 21

**And the big reveal is finally here...hopefully it doesn't disappoint. If it does feel free to lie to me, I've had a rough couple of days :)**

* * *

I was on the edge of sleeping and waking surrounding by a cocoon of warmth. I was so comfortable I didn't want to move, much less get up, but I could hear an incessant ringing somewhere in the distance. I snuggled deeper into the bed sighing sleepily. Whoever was calling at this hour could just leave a message.

"Someone seems dead set on talking to you," Owen said drowsily.

My whole body locked up as I became acutely aware of where I was, and more specifically, who I was with. Sometime during the night I had outright invaded Owen's side of the bed. I was practically lying on top of him with my head on his chest, my left arm slung over his waist, and my leg hooked around his. I had basically made Owen my own personal Pillow Pet.

I slowly lifted my head off his chest looking at his face not so subtly checking to make sure I hadn't drooled all over him. His left arm was looped around my body resting on my shoulder as he traced random patterns against my skin. His eyes look tired with sleep, and he was rocking the most adorable bed head in history. I swallowed loudly beginning the complicated process of extricating my body from his. I quickly moved back to my side of the bed throwing my face into the pillow thinking that whoever was in charge of making sure I didn't do stupid shit needed to be fired.

"You're not going to freak out now are you?" Owen asked humor evident in his voice.

"Me? Nope. I'm totally and completely fine. No freaking out whatsoever," was my muffled reply through the pillow.

Owen laughed deep in his chest and I felt him get out of bed and walk into the living room. I flipped over onto my back in a spread eagle. I had just had one of the best nights sleep in my entire life, complete with no nightmare, with Owen. I didn't know you could be so content in bed with a man while keeping your clothes on. I should write this down in my diary later.

I felt the warmth still radiating from Owen's side of the bed. The man was like a human heater. I moved over to his recently vacated spot burrowing down, throwing the covers over my head. It was like being surrounded by hot towels fresh out of the dryer. I choose to ignore the fact it also probably made me look like a total creeper.

I heard Owen walk back into the room stopping just short of the bed, "You have five missed calls from Zara and about 15 text messages. I have to be reading these wrong because it says someone named Bilbo needs you for a final fitting."

"Tell her to leave me alone. The gala isn't until seven o'clock tonight. It can't possible take that long to get ready," I told him from underneath the covers.

I heard him typing something into my phone quickly hitting send. I didn't care what Bilbo and the Three Stooges wanted, I wasn't leaving this particular spot for at least seven or eight hours. Minimum.

My phone chirped almost immediately. "Zara says if you don't want to end up in neon pink taffeta you better be at headquarters by noon."

I shot out of bed like the demons of Hell were chasing me. I grabbed the phone out of Owen's hand quickly texting Zara I would be there by noon.

"Do I want to know what that was all about?" Owen asked retreating back towards the kitchen.

"Not even a little." I followed him out taking a seat at the small kitchenette. I tried to conjure up the worst possible scenario when it came to Bilbo's dress "innovation" while Owen poured us both a cup of coffee. I was so nervous I had resorted to biting my nails.

I got up from my seat joining him in the kitchen, "If I end up wearing 100 pounds of hideous fabric in a really off putting color you'll still talk to me tonight, right?"

Owen handed me my coffee taking a sip of his own silently debating my question. "How hideous are we talking?"

"Owen! I'm being serious. I need all the support I can get right now," I whined.

He gave me a crooked grin placing his hand over his heart in pledge, "I promise to be your wing man no matter what."

"Thank god."

"You hungry?" he asked already pulling supplies out of his cabinets

"Is that a serious question?"

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs good with you?"

Uh, yeah! "If that is what I get for almost getting eaten by raptors sign me up."

Owen paused, looking at me clearly not amused.

"Too soon? Ok, got it. No almost getting eaten by raptor jokes yet," I apologized sitting back down at the kitchenette.

I watched Owen float around the kitchen making breakfast with finely tuned precision. If I was to attempt even one of those dishes it would inevitably end with a call to 911 and a fire extinguisher. While he finished up breakfast we talked about the gala, going over every part of the plan in detail. It wasn't really that complicated, but Owen was a Boyscout…always be prepared. I prescribed to more of a keep your fingers crossed and hope all your quirks synchronize and band together at just the right moment to form a spurt of bad-assed-ness like no other, but his way worked too.

After yet another culinary orgasm I checked my watch. We had slept in this morning and didn't have too much time before I needed to meet with the dressmaker from hell.

"I gotta run and get slutted up. Thanks for breakfast," I told Owen standing up.

Owen spit out some of his coffee, "What?"

"I have to meet Zara by noon, and I still have to seduce Watson." Owen drug his teeth over his lips in a sneer. Note to self, Owen was not a fan of this part of the plan. "I'll stop by before I head out. Barry will be here soon, right?"

Owen nodded and I smiled sarcastically at him running out the door towards home. I went straight for the shower making sure to shave every possible inch of my body. Lord only knew what this dress might entail. Girls gotta be prepared.

I decided to leave my hair to air dry and forgo makeup. I had a feeling Zara would have those areas covered later in the day. That just left wardrobe. I dug through my underwear drawer unearthing my Victoria Secret pushup bra. The thing had about five inches of padding, but it took my modest B chest to a believable C with nothing more than stuffing. Personally, I thought it was one of man's greatest inventions.

I foraged through my closet until I found my one pair of slut jeans. I only brought them out for a special occasion or emergencies. This could technically be classified as both depending on how you looked at it. They were so tight I actually had to lay down flat on the bed to button them and they left nothing to the imagination. Damn Owen and his homemade macaroni and cheese.

I decided on a deep blue, low cut, spaghetti strap tank top I would normally never wear outside the confines of my bedroom, but given this guy was an ass and boobs man I was pulling out all the stops. I checked myself over in the mirror and decided it wasn't half bad. My boobs were all but bursting out of the top, so mission accomplished there. I tried to get a look at my ass, but the mirror was too high.

I grabbed a pair of matching wedge heels that were an impulse buy. There weren't my normal style, but Cinderella was proof that a new pair of shoes can change your life and tonight I needed all the help I could get. I stuffed everything I thought I could possible need for tonight into my backpack, including my gun. It wouldn't do me much good at the bottom of a backpack, but it gave me peace of mind.

I grabbed my keys heading out the door to my Jeep. I saw Barry's car over at Owen's bungalow as I threw my bag into the back of the Jeep. I quickly drove over to Owen's jumping out looking around for the guys. I heard voices coming from the porch and made my way over. Climbing up the stairs I saw the two of them with their feet kicked up drinking beer, not a care in the world. Here I was rushing to get ready for a party that started in a little over eight hours, and they were relaxing drinking beer. Being a woman sucked sometimes.

"I'm headed out. I will meet you guys at the reception tonight. Call me if anything changes between now and then. Don't get so hammered you forget the supplies," I said quickly.

They were both staring at me like I was a mythical unicorn. Owen's mouth was hanging open his beer bottle frozen halfway to his mouth and Barry's eyes were so wide it looked like they might fall out of his head any minute.

"What?" Did I have something on my face?

Owen stood up slowly walking past Barry coming to a stop directly in front of me. Starting at my feet he slowly raked his eyes over my entire body. If I wasn't kinda turned on by it I would have been offended. Ironic considering I was about to go thrust my assets in some guys face so I could commit a crime.

"You think it will do the trick? How's my ass look?" I asked Owen spinning around to give him a clear view of the goods.

He grabbed me by my upper arm dragging me down the stairs and around the corner, "Is this what you meant by slutty?"

"Well, yeah. Although, I was aiming more for high class slut rather than your typical run of the mill hoe bag." It's important to clarify the difference. There are scientific variations between a high class slut and a regular old hoe bag.

Owen pinched the bridge of his nose muttering under his breath.

"You don't think this will work?" I bit my lip mentally inventorying my closet for possible options. Without that access card we may as well stay on Owen's porch and get shitfaced.

"Oh, it will work alright," Owen said in a hard voice. "A little too well."

My inner goddess was so over the mood at Owen's admission she was doing the Whip Nae Nae in the corner to celebrate.

"I'll see you tonight," I told Owen smiling slightly. Hadn't he learned by now he didn't need to worry about me?

Owen stepped forward kissing my forehead lightly, "See you tonight." He turned, walking back to the porch to join Barry.

I heard my cell phone chirp in my hand. Looking down I saw it was Zara threatening death by taffeta if I wasn't there in 30 minutes. Jeez, this woman knew how to crack the whip.

I made it to headquarters so fast Owen would have been hard pressed to beat my time. Nothing like the threat of public humiliation to get a girl motivated. I texted Lowery to let him know I was in the building. He immediately responded letting me know Watson was currently in the cafeteria finishing up lunch, and was headed home to get ready for the party after that. Perfect.

I hauled ass, or as close as I could in wedge heels, to the cafeteria. When I arrived I spotted Watson by the trashcans throwing away the remains of his lunch. I backed up into the hallway so he couldn't see me waiting for him to round the corner. The security footage I had watched of Watson showed he always kept his access card in an interior jacket pocket on his left side. Game time.

As soon as he turned the corner I started walking forward pretending to look at my phone. I intentionally bumped into him bracing my left hand against his chest. I made sure to let my chest rub against him as I reached my right hand inside his jacket pocket lifting the access card.

"Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry," I said in my best ditzy voice, our bodies still touching. I reached behind me sliding the access card into the back pocket of my jeans. "I'm always doing stuff like this."

If Watson had ever done anything other than ogle my goodies he would know I was putting on a bad act, but considering the glazed over look in his eyes I figured I was in the clear. His thoughts were solely focused on my chest, and I was pretty sure all his blood flow was pooled in his southern regions.

"It's fine. No harm, no foul," he said staring at my chest. I knew this tank top was the way to go.

I stepped away from him smiling sweetly, "Thanks for being such a gentleman about this. Have a good day."

I continued down the hall and could feel his pervy, little eyes glued to my ass. It was all I could do not to gag.

My phone rang and I looked down seeing Lowery's name. "What's up?"

"That was the smoothest thing I have ever seen. It was so fast. I knew it was coming and I could hardly tell it happened," Lowery said animatedly on the other end.

"Probably best not to be talking about it right now. I gotta go meet Zara before I'm murdered by a hobbit. Text Owen and let him know it's a go."

I hung up the phone taking the elevator back to the private floors. Zara was waiting for me when the doors opened.

"You're late," she snapped grabbing me off the elevator.

"How the hell did you even know I was here?" This woman was scary good.

"Hurry up. Ms. Abelli's been waiting for you. She doesn't wait for anyone."

"Ms. Abelli can kiss…" I shut my mouth when Zara glared at me.

"Jo, this woman is a big deal. I don't care if you have to fake it, be nice!" Zara said in a stern mom voice.

I nodded my head like a scolded toddler. Fake it. That was her advice? It was less than helpful. I couldn't even fake an orgasm much less a whole relationship. I have a hard time faking a hello to someone I don't like.

Zara didn't bother knocking on Ms. Abelli's door today. She swung it open ushering me inside the lion's den. The Three Stooges were crowded around Bilbo speaking rapidly in Italian. When they heard us enter the room they all stopped turning to face us slowly.

"Late," Bilbo snapped at me.

I bit back the sarcastic response opting for a simple, "I'm sorry." It tasted like acid in my mouth.

"Come." Did this woman speak in anything other than one-syllable words?

The Three Stooges surrounded me in a circle pulling me around the corner of the living room into a huge master suite. I was deposited on a round stool about a foot off the ground and twelve inches wide. There were panel mirrors positioned in a semi circle on one side. I looked at the Three Stooges for guidance, but they merely stared back at me offering no help whatsoever.

Bilbo shuffled into the room barking out Italian at Stooge #1 who immediately left the room. She probably needed to go find the one ring to rule them all. Man, I cracked myself up.

"Strip," Bilbo commanded.

"I'm sorry?"

Bilbo looked to Stooge #2 who immediately stepped forward addressing me, "Take off your clothes. You may keep you panties on for right now."

"Zara!" No way. That was not happening. Zara's head poked around the corner. I looked at her expectantly as Stooge #2 explained the issue.

"Jo, this is completely normal. They can't get the fit exactly right if you're wearing a bar. Especially that one," Zara said, her eyebrows raised as she took in my padded bra. "You really don't have much choice. It's this or not go."

Shit. How did I get myself into these things?

I stripped off my clothes refusing to look anyone in the eye. There was humiliating, and then there was this. When I was down to just my bra and panties I just stood there.

"Off," Bilbo growled. Jesus, this woman was terrifying.

Deciding to just ride it till the wheels fell off I took off my bra standing there like a total jackass. Mercifully Stooge #1 came back into the room holding a garment bag. Bilbo unzipped the bag pulling out the dress with the help of all the Stooges. They carried it over to me like it was a priceless artifact. The Three Stooges worked in tandem to raise the dress over my head. I put my arms into the air to expedite this whole tragedy. The dress slipped over my head and down my body as the Three Stooges worked to arrange every inch of fabric, stepping back when they were done.

I looked at Bilbo who almost looked like she was smiling. Almost. I, on the other hand, had some questions. Bilbo started speaking rapidly in Italian and the Three Stooges jumped into action pulling, tucking, and pinning at different points around the dress.

"Quick question, when do you think you'll finish the dress?"

Bilbo glared at me snapping out a harsh Italian phrase. I don't speak Italian, but I knew "go to hell" in any language.

"Zara!" I screeched. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate. This was worse than Pepto-Bismol colored taffeta.

Zara rushed around the corner coming to a sudden stop when she saw me. "Oh Jo, wow."

"No, not wow. Definitely not wow," I said fanning my face attempting to calm my nerves. The Three Stooges kept pinning oblivious to my freak out.

"It is Jo. You look absolutely stunning," Zara said in awe.

I turned towards the semi circle of mirrors taking in the whole dress for the first time. I still felt like fainting. The silk dress was an ivory color with a semi-sweetheart neckline that had a slight pool of fabric that elegantly draped between my breasts. The sides of the neckline continued up and over my shoulders ending with a dramatic scoop back that hung in a loop down my back. I didn't understand how the dress was actually staying on me given it appeared nothing was actually holding it up. It seemed to defy gravity. Hopes and dreams I guess.

The rest of the dress hugged my body as if it were painted on. The front of the dress spilled out slightly around my feet. The back was an entirely different story, mainly because it didn't exist. The dress was completely backless ending in a V so far down my back it showed what Zara called my dimples of Venus. I think that's just a fancy word for back dimples, but I was too in shock to comment. I was still trying to grasp the concept that it barely covered my ass. There was slight ruching at the base of the V, which way to a modest train spilling out behind me giving the dress a regal quality.

When I had offended Bilbo in our first meeting I thought the worst she could do to me was put me in some hideous bridesmaid ensemble. I was wrong. This dress wasn't hideous, in fact, it was gorgeous, but it was by no means plain or boring. It was sexy without trying, risqué with the exposure of skin, and tight enough that the Three Stooges were correct in their assessment that my underwear was going to get the night off.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, I was about to attempt to break into one of the most highly secure rooms in the world, steal classified information surrounded by every employee in the company, while navigating a room full of the wealthiest people in the world. All while essentially naked.

No problem.

* * *

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks...I think so too.  
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 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I 100% agree...never fear, his time will come :)**

 **Princessdiana516: I love it! You are right, what a douche canoe!**

 **Mystery Guest: Thanks for the great review. I'll be honest, I never considered Jo having a "bond" with the girls so I'm glad you liked that they wanted to eat her just like everyone else. Let's be honest, Jo doesn't really have a "bond" with much of anything so her being able to Jedi mind trick the raptors would have been cray cray :)**

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 **Storylover00: Right, I could see him doing it too. The guy has no limits. Thanks for reading.**

 **angelicedg: He certainly is begging for it. I have it on good authority it will happen :) Thanks for reading!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!**

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I mistakenly assumed the fitting portion of this afternoon would be the worst thing I had to endure. Oh boy, was I wrong. After leaving Bilbo's room Zara whisked me to another room down the hall where there were about 50 people rushing around in what appeared to be organized chaos. The room was divided into sections dedicated to various grooming techniques, but I can honestly say I wasn't sure what was happening in about 90% of the room.

Zara wasted no time depositing me in the first of what would be many, many sections. I was buffed, polished, waxed and plucked to the point of insanity. When one of the minions tried to put me in a spray tan booth I dug my gun out of my backpack and threatened physical violence. A woman can only take so much before she snaps. Zara was able to talk me down with a Snickers bar and some Sour Patch Kids. To keep me sedated the rest of the afternoon she kept a steady flow of sugar and alcohol near me at all times. I needed to get her a Thank You card when this was all over.

The last steps in this torture chamber were hair and makeup. Zara took the liberty of explaining my dress to the hair and makeup artists because when they asked me all I could come up with was it looked like really nice lingerie. Zara's description proved to be a more helpful viewpoint. The three of them made the decision to leave my hair down using large rollers to create "old school Hollywood waves". Whatever the hell that meant. The left side was pinned back using an ornate clip that looked to be made completely out of diamonds. I was really hoping they were fake, but I'm pretty sure the Bvlgari box it came in was a dead giveaway I was wrong.

Getting my makeup done was like being dowsed by a water hose. Since when was makeup applied with an airbrush? The makeup guy went on and on about how my smokey eyes, nude lips, fake eyelashes, and contouring would finish out the look. I had to eat a Kit Kat bar to keep from breaking his arm.

Once I was done with makeup I was given the once over by the ring leader of this freak show and deemed acceptable to be seen in public and was escorted back to Bilbo's room wearing nothing but a short, silk robe. As soon as I walked in the Three Stooges led me to the master suite kindly telling me to remove my robe and every other stitch of clothing I was currently wearing. Considering everything I had been through in the last five hours standing there naked in front of three strangers wasn't really registering on my radar. Plus, since this was the third time they'd seen me naked I was pretty sure it made us practically family. I put on the three-inch stilettos handed to me idly wondering what the height requirements were to officially be considered an Amazon Woman. Considering I was clocking in at 6'2''(ish) right now I probably fit the bill.

Next step was the dress. It was right at seven o'clock and I needed to get down to the party so I could scope everything out before committing corporate espionage. The Three Stooges helped put the dress on and it fit like a second skin leaving very little to the imagination.

I turned around to the mirrors taking in my whole appearance for the first time and had to remind myself to breathe. The face looking back at me in the mirror was a stranger. My normally unruly hair had been tamed and fell in large elegant waves that cascaded down my back, my makeup was flawless and made my normally plain brown eyes look far more exotic than they really were, but the crème de la crème was the dress. I had to hand it to Bilbo, I may not be able to move, eat or sit, but this dress was truly amazing.

"Thank you," I said to Bilbo as she stood beside me admiring her work.

She turned to me giving me a hard look, "Don't fuck it up."

Well, what do you know? She could speak in more than one-syllable words.

I joined Zara in the living room where she presented me with what were undoubtedly more priceless, and very real, diamonds in the form of earrings and a bracelet. Simon probably borrowed them from the Queen of England's private collection or something equally as ridiculous. I had learned to pick my battles today, and going toe to toe with Zara over jewelry wasn't something I really thought I could pull off. Especially wearing nothing but five inches of silk and three-inch heels.

"I know I've been a lot to deal with, but I appreciate all this Zara," I told her putting on the last of the jewelry.

"It was my pleasure Jo. You look amazing," she said smiling. I vaguely wondered why Zara wasn't attending the gala, but figured she probably had a world to conquer or something.

As I made my way up to the banquet hall in the elevator I tried to mentally calculate how much money I was wearing. Probably enough to feed a third world country for a few years. It made my stomach hurt just thinking about it so I decided to just ignore for fear I would puke.

I stepped off the elevator into the banquet hall seeing it already awash with activity. I guess I was fashionably late. I scanned the room looking for Owen or Barry, but didn't see them anywhere. If they were still sitting on his porch drinking beer I was going to have a significant emotional event. Not sure what to do I made my way over to the bar. When in doubt drink.

"What can I get for you ma'am?" the bartender asked. I was tempted to order a beer, but saw everyone to my left and right with either wine or some kind of cocktail. Jeez, I was out of my league.

"Um, wine please. Whatever you recommend." My experience with wine was limited to the kind that came out of a box.

The bartender handed me a glass of white wine smiling at me. I sipped the wine turning slightly, running my eyes across the room. There were cocktail tables spread throughout the hall with a band, complete with a singer, playing on stage in the front. A marble dance floor was in the middle of the room, but no one was brave enough to try it out this early in the evening. Groups of people were littered around the room in casual conversation. I recognized all the Masrani and InGen employees by sight. The one's I didn't know I assumed were the high rollers brought in by Simon to pay up.

"Josephine, my dear, I hardly recognized you," Simon said coming up behind me. "You look absolutely stunning."

I turned, smiling at Simon. He looked immaculate in his designer tuxedo. "Thank you. You look pretty good yourself."

"Allow me to introduce Richard Matthews," Simon said gesturing to the man standing beside him. "He's an oil man originally from Texas. I imagine the two of you would have quite a lot to talk about. Jo here is from Houston."

Richard Matthews was a fit, decent looking man in his mid-50s. He had slightly graying hair at his temples, and a powerful presence. He was trying very hard to exude a charming, effortless persona, but his smile reminded me of Doctor Evil. The sight of it made shivers race down my spine. This man gave me the heebie jeebies.

"Pleasure to meet you Jo," Richard said extending his hand out. Internally grimacing, I reached out to shake his hand, but he grabbed just my fingertips bringing them to his lips kissing my knuckles softly. I swallowed my gag reflex plastering a fake, hopefully believable, smile on my face. By the warning look Simon was shooting me from behind Richard's shoulder I needed to try a little harder.

"You too Mr. Matthews," I said sweetly. Hopefully calling him by his last night would firmly convey I was not interested.

Richard stepped forward placing his hand on the small of my back, "Please call me Richard. Can I get a refill for the lady here," he said addressing the bartender.

Simon said his goodbye to Richard shooting me a look that clearly said not to mess up any pending donation this man might be contemplating. I sneered at him in return scanning the room again for Owen or Barry. Hell, I'd take Hoskins at this point. Anything to get away from Roving Hands Richard. If the guy "accidentally" brushed my ass or boobs again I was kneeing him the balls, Simon be dammed.

"So, how long have you worked here?" Richard asked leaning forwarding invading my personal space.

"About eight months, give or take," I responded leaning back towards the bar. "I wouldn't want to keep you from anything." Please go away. Please go away.

"Oh, there isn't anyone in this room I'd rather be talking to Jo." I laughed awkwardly running through my escape options as I sipped my wine. "I'm surprised a woman such as yourself is here alone."

I've always found when confronted with situations such as this it's always best to lie your ass off.

"Oh, I'm not alone. My date is just finishing up some work. He should be here any minute." I tried to sound confident and not like a big, fat liar. I had no idea how I was going to manufacture a date. I defiantly didn't have one hidden in my underwear, especially since I wasn't wearing any.

Richard ran his hand down my arm slowly in what I imagine he thought was a seductive gesture. Probably most woman found Richard Matthews charming and desirable. It had the opposite affect on me making me clench my fists so tight I was probably drawing blood. I needed to maintain a low profile tonight, and curb stomping some oil billionaire wasn't really conducive to that.

"If I was your date I most certainly would not leave such a beautiful woman unattended in a room full of unsavory men," Richard purred at me. Oh gross.

Was this guy for real? I wanted to grab a calendar and show him it was the 21st century. This guy needed an attitude adjustment, and I was officially volunteering to give it to him. I'd apologize to Simon later. I stood up to my full height, stepping back from Richard getting ready to tell him where he could shove his charm when I felt a presence behind me. A calloused hand pressed against my exposed back, and the smell of soap and spice invaded my senses. I let out a sigh of relief sagging back against Owen.

"Sorry I'm late babe," Owen said placing a chaste kiss against my cheek. "Owen Grady, it's a pleasure to meet you," he said to Richard extending his hand in greeting.

Richard seemed to visible deflate shaking Owen's hand, "Richard Matthews, it's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you."

"I can only take credit for the good stuff," Owen said laughing easily as he guided me past Richard, "If you'll excuse us I need to make amends to my beautiful date for being late. Have a good evening."

Owen took my hand leading me towards the dance floor in the middle of the room. Just as we stepped on the floor the band started playing a beautiful rendition of John Legend's, All of Me. Owen turned slowly pulling me towards him placing his right hand on the small of my back as I put my left arm around his shoulder.

My eyes widened in shock. "Owen, I don't know how to dance," I whispered rapidly.

He threw me his cocky grin, "That's not true. I caught the show at the bonfire, remember?"

I wanted to point out uncoordinated, drunk gyrating was not dancing, but was too freaked out to verbally spar with him. My eyes darted left and right surveying the crowd in the room. It could have been my imagination, but it seemed like all the eyes in the room were trained on us.

"Owen," I said slightly panicked.

"Relax Jo, everyone can dance. Just follow my lead." Following was not exactly my strong suit.

Owen slowly started swaying back and forth. I fell into step with his rhythm relaxing as I got the hang of it. The series of steps that carried us across the floor really weren't that different than fighting. Who knew? Owen pulled me against him tucking our hands against his chest.

"You're kinda late you know," I chastised. I had been through hell and high water getting ready for this thing, and I still beat him here.

"You can't rush perfection." I pulled back giving him my best "I'm not impressed" look.

It was a halfhearted attempt considering Owen looked better than James Bond in his tuxedo. I have no idea where he got it from, but I was considering petitioning Simon to make it the standard uniform at Jurassic World. Gimme a bucket of popcorn, a tuxedo clad Owen, and I'd be set for days.

"Everyone's looking at us," I said self-consciously. I wasn't use to people noticing me, it was disconcerting.

"They're not looking at us. They're looking at you."

Como say what?

"Don't look so surprised," Owen said spinning us around the dance floor effortlessly. "The way you look tonight I would expect nothing less."

I felt like someone had kicked my puppy. I knew the dress was overkill, but for a minute in Bilbo's room all dressed up, I had felt truly special.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. I asked for plain, boring even, but Bilbo isn't my biggest fan," I said dejectedly. "The hair, the dress, the makeup, it's too much."

Owen stopped moving causing me to look at him in question. Weren't we supposed to be cutting a rug out here?

"Jo, this room is full of some of the most gorgeous woman in the world wearing the most expensive designer dresses money can buy, but when I walked into this room I saw nothing and no one but you. You're without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on," he declared pulling me back towards him resuming our dance, "Every man in this room would chew their own arm off to be me right now, and every woman in this room probably wishes you had stayed home. You're a vision."

Oh. Wow.

"Thank you," I told him softly.

"Although, I'm not a real big fan of the way these men are looking at you," Owen bit out. "This dress can really spark a man's imagination."

"Yeah well, I'm sure it would really kick things into overdrive if they knew what was underneath. Bilbo isn't really one for undergarments," I told him laughing.

Owen groaned, "Jo please, I'm not a saint."

"Sorry." My bad, that one was on me. Time for a subject change. "We need to sneak out of here soon so we're back before dinner is served."

"As soon as the song's over you can leave under the guise of going to the ladies room. I'll follow you a few seconds later and we'll meet outside the server room," Owen said, his voice all business. "Don't go in that room without me."

I looked at him in mock offense, "I would never do something like that. Besides, you have all the gear in your 007 suit."

When the song finished Owen led me off the dance floor. We were stopped by several groups of people who wanted to talk to Owen about the Velociraptor program. After talking for about five minutes I excused myself to the ladies room. I saw Barry on the other side of the room, and he gave me a subtle head nod.

Once out in the hallway I made my way towards the bathroom pretending to go in before turning quickly to the right. I made my way down to the end of the hallway stopping in front of the server room. I heard footsteps rounding the corner and saw Owen making his way towards me. He reached into his pocket handing me a micro ear communication unit as he placed a similar one in his own ear.

Placing mine in my ear I tested it, "Lowery, it's Jo. Do you copy?"

"Loud and clear. Everything's quite here, the server room's been empty since this afternoon," Lowery replied from the control room.

I looked to Owen who was checking in with Barry in the banquet hall. He gave me a slow nod. I bent over hiking the bottom of my dress up.

"What the hell are you doing?" Owen asked his eyes glued to my bare leg.

"I'm getting the access card," I told him pulling my dress up higher exposing a garter belt on my upper thigh. I pulled the access card out letting my dress drop back down. "Where else was I supposed to put it?" I said turning around slowly in a circle showing him the limited options the dress presented.

Owen squeezed his eyes shut taking several deep breaths. "Let's get this over with."

I shrugged swiping the access card and opening the door. The room was stuffed with rows and rows of server cabinets. I quickly made my way past the front desk dropping the access card on it. I scanned the racks before locating the one Lowery had told me held the labs server. I quickly swung the cabinet door open seeing seven servers stacked on the shelves with a small computer screen and keyboard at the top.

"Lowery, I'm here."

"Great, I need eyes," he said. Owen stepped behind me pulling a micro camera out of his pocket pointing it at the computer screen.

"Ok, open up the command prompt," Lowery told me. He took me through a series of commands to find the information we needed. Owen had suggested just setting up a VPN connection so Lowery could access the system remotely, but the security measures in place would record the IP address of such an intrusion. Those same measures also ensured we couldn't copy any files without alerting the IT technicians.

After a few misses we hit the motherload when I found several files on the raptor program. Opening the first file we saw all of Owen and Barry' reports on the raptors, nothing earth shattering so far. I kept looking and saw what looked like correspondence from Hoskins to InGen's corporate office.

"Owen look at this," I said showing him the memo.

"Retrain raptors' instincts to serve human needs," Owen read. "They can't be serious?"

"There's more. Look at Hoskins latest correspondence. It's dated right after your breakthrough with Blue. He's proposing military applications."

Owen's lips pressed into a thin line as he read the memo. I squeezed his hand trying to offer some kind of support. He squeezed my hand back giving me a half smile.

"Come on, we need to find out about the Indominus Rex before someone misses us at the party," I told him closing the raptor files. We had what we needed there.

It took some digging, but I was able to find the Indomiuns Rex files hidden among some T-Rex files. I opened up everything I could find rapidly scanning the information. I needed two weeks with this server not 10 minutes.

The files were full of different lab results, genetic testing information, and growth rates. There was a memo from Simon to Dr. Wu requesting research into something "cooler" and with "more teeth". I was going to strangle Simon with his expensive bow tie when I got my hands on him.

Simon's memo made the Indominus Rex project look largely theoretically. Just research and options, but when I looked further I saw confirmed lab notes from Dr. Wu annotating the successful incubation of the assets. The report stated he had combined the base genome of a T-Rex with multiple other species. Some of species listed were a Carnotaurus, a Rugops, and some unspecified species of tree frogs. There was a footnote from Dr. Wu stating that as requested by InGen the exact genetic composition would remain classified and undisclosed to Masrani Global Corporation.

"Holy shit," I muttered. This was beyond bad. Simon may have wanted research or possibilities into such a creation, but he sure as hell hadn't authorized one be created.

"Jo, you've got incoming. Get out of there. You've got two minutes tops," Lowery said through my ear comm.

I looked frantically at Owen who was still reading the files on the computer screen oblivious to Lowery's warning. I quickly shoved the keyboard under the screen slamming the server door closed.

"Jo, what…" Owen questioned.

"We have one minute before someone walks through that door," I said desperately looking for a way out.

I heard a _bing_ from the access reader on the outside of the door and knew we were out of time. I swung my eyes to Owen in fear just as the door to the server room open.

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 **GayMexicanBatman: Thanks so much for the great review and for reading! Hope you enjoyed the latest.  
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 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks again!**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for reading and the review. The dress is based on an actual wedding dress I saw that I would have totally worn if I was WAY braver, and an overall different person...LOL. Hope you enjoyed this one.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: LOL! Thanks, it made me laugh too.**

 **twifan1987: That was great! I hope you enjoyed Owen's reaction and the mayhem that ensued.**

 **Storylover00: Thanks again! Hope you liked this one and thanks so much for reading!**

 **animagirl: Sorry for the slow update...I was WAY behind the power curve wrapping presents for my kids. Hope it was worth the wait.**

 **angelicedg: I would totally take him as a pillow pet (or anything else) too..thanks for reading and hoped you liked the chapter.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Over 200 followers, wow guys, really wow. I don't know if that's a lot, but when I started I had none and I kinda expected it to stay around that range. Thanks for all the support!**

 **This one's for ya'll!**

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Owen grabbed me by the hand dragging me behind him as he ran in-between the server racks. He opened the door to a small supply closet thrusting me inside following closely behind shutting the door. There was hardly space for one person in here much less two.

Owen and I were plastered together in the tiny space. I had my hands on his chest, my fingers curled around his tuxedo jacket pulling him against me trying to create space where there was none. His arms were wrapped around my waist and our legs were pinned between each others creating some pretty outstanding sensations. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest and I closed my eyes trying to think of the least sexy thing I could conjure up. I concentrated on taking mental stock of the contents of the supply closet. Mops, brooms and computer parts definitely weren't sexy, right?

I could sense him looking at me, and opened my eyes coming face to face with a very sexy looking Owen. There was enough light filtering in the closet I could see the blue in his eyes had darkened and looked almost black. His breathing was slightly erratic as he looked at me raising his eyebrows suggestively.

"You cannot be serious?" I whispered in exasperation. "Explain to me exactly how that would work?"

I knew right away saying something was a mistake. Owen's the type of man that will come crashing through the sexual innuendo door like the Kool Aid Man if you leave it open even the slightest bit.

Owen flashed me his 100-watt smile, "I'm not saying it wouldn't take creativity."

I almost fainted. Hell, I almost gave him the go ahead. Sex in a closet with Owen, I felt like everything else after that would just be icing on the cake.

"Uh, Jo. This is an open mic," Lowery said in my ear apologetically.

I pointed at my ear looking at Owen who didn't seem to give a rat's ass who heard what went on in here. I rolled my eyes so hard I saw my brain. Men.

We both turned towards the door as we heard talking in the server room. It was Watson and another technician looking for his missing access card. Thank everything holy I'd dropped that card on the desk when we first came in. I heard Watson shout triumphantly upon finding the card on the front desk, and we both breathed a sigh of relief. The voices trailed off and I was almost positive I heard the door opening then closing again. We gave it another couple of minutes just to be sure it was safe. It had absolutely nothing at all to do with being pressed up against a particularly handsome wall of solid muscle.

"All clear Jo," Lowery supplied in my ear. He sure knew how to ruin the moment.

I cracked open the door squeezing out past Owen who took a few more minutes to collect himself in the closet. Good to know I'm not the only one who thought it was a little hot in there. Once Owen exited the closet we made our way out of the lab.

I started walking back down the hall to rejoin the party when Owen's hand clamped down on my arm. I looked at him questioningly as he appeared to be listening to Barry in his ear comm.

"Three investors just exited the banquet hall headed this general direction," he said filling me in on Barry's observation.

"Lowery?"

"I heard, I'm working on it," he said typing furiously on his keyboard, "Ok, I see them. Obviously looking for the outdoor balcony if the cigars are any indication."

I sighed in relief; the balcony was on the opposite end of the hall from the server room. I was about to relay the information to Owen when Lowery's voice boomed in my ear.

"Jo, these guys have had a few too many and they took a wrong turn. They're headed straight for you."

Could we not catch a break tonight? I looked frantically at Owen who could already tell by my expression we were screwed. We both searched the hallway in vain for somewhere to hide. We couldn't get back into the server room without the access card.

I heard deep laughter filter down the hallway from around the corner. Crap, they were almost on top of us. They may be a little tipsy, but I'm sure it wouldn't go unnoticed we were in a section of the building we had no business being in. There was nothing down this hall but the server room.

"Don't hit me ok?" Owen said tentatively.

Before I had a chance to ask him what the hell he was talking about he pushed me into the corner of the hallway pinning me against the wall. The wall was cold against my exposed back and I tried to think what Owen was planning. There was a small nook back here that was somewhat shaded, but there was no way they wouldn't see us.

"What…"

I said adios to rational thought as Owen's body pressed flat against mine. One arm snaked around my waist while the other settled on the base of my neck as his lips pressed down on mine. I responded instinctively, grabbing the lapels of his jacket pulling him to me. He kissed me like our lives depended on it, like I was the air he needed to breathe. His hands drifted down my back cupping my ass and I let out a small whimper. Owen growled in his chest nipping at my lips as we both struggled for control of the kiss and our bodies.

The things this man could do to me should be illegal. My hands fisted into his hair as we continued to explore each other's bodies. I'm by no means a nun, but being kissed by Owen was life altering. It was like experiencing it all for the first time. It felt like I had been waiting my entire life to feel like I did at this very moment.

I completely forgot the reason we were necking like teenagers in a hallway until I heard a not so subtle throat clearing from behind us. Owen broke our kiss resting his forehead against mine as we both struggled to slow our breathing. He ran his hand tenderly down the side of my face placing a gently kiss on my lips before turning to face the men currently looking highly amused in the hallway. He kept his body in front of mine shielding me from the men as I adjusted my dress.

"Forgive us son, we were looking for the balcony, but seem to have gotten lost," an older man said smiling at Owen.

"No problem sir, it's just back this way," Owen returned, grabbing my hand and leading me down the hallway.

"Oh to be young and in love," one of the other men said grinning at me clearly intoxicated, "I'm surprised the two of you waited this long with the way you looked on the dance floor."

I stumbled at his words looking at him my eyes wide. Did he say in love?

Owen laughed genuinely. "Yes sir. She keeps me on my toes. The balcony is just at the other end of this hall," he told them pointing.

The three men laughed loudly slapping Owen on the back as they passed. They eyed me with salacious grins on their faces and it was all I could do to plaster a smile on my face. I could not analyze the meaning of any of this right now. It was too overwhelming.

Owen led me back into the banquet hall where the party was in full swing. I felt disconnected from everything as I was having a hard time tearing my mind away from that hallway. I must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights because Owen whispered in my ear he was going to get us some drinks. I shook my head absentmindedly. Yes, alcohol, that was exactly what I needed to dilute the thoughts racing through my mind.

Simon stepped on stage informing everyone dinner would be served soon. Guests wandered towards the double doors at the far end of the banquet hall filtering through to the dining room a low murmur of conversation floating through the room. I scanned the crowd looking for Owen.

"Jo, you look beautiful." I turned towards the voice coming face to face with Claire. She looked magnificent in a black strapless mermaid gown. Her red hair was pulled back in an elegant twist, and her lips were painted blood red. Her body was all curves in all the right places. I tried not to feel inferior standing in front her polished grace, but it was hard considering I was pretty sure I was still sporting a pretty impressive "I just had my world rocked" look. It must feel good to have your shit together. Personally, I wouldn't know, but I bet it felt good.

"Thanks, you too. Really, wow." Jeez, I was a loser.

"So, you and Owen?" she asked, a small smile pulling at her lips.

"Me and Owen what?"

She sipped her wine slowly eyeing me, "I didn't realize you were dating."

Dating is not really how I would describe it. More like we had issues keeping our hands to ourselves when in each other's generally vicinity. Either we were trying to kill each other or we were having trouble keeping our clothes on.

"I don't think we are…it's not really like that." I stuttered uncomfortably.

Claire smiled like she knew a secret, "Jo, it's pretty obvious to everyone except you and Owen how you feel about each other. I think it could be good for both of you."

I frowned at her words shaking my head, "I'm not really sure what to say. Especially to someone who dated Owen."

"That was hardly a date," she replied rolling her eyes. Wow, that was one bad date. "Be happy, you deserve it."

Awkward sauce, this was just too weird. I smiled at her giving her a double thumbs up. Thankfully, Claire was whisked away to continue running the universe (when I grew up I wanted to be just like her) while I was left to contemplate our conversation. I wondered slowly towards the dining room thinking about things better left untouched, especially tonight.

I found our table in the very back of the dinning room, thank you Simon. Barry was already seated talking quietly with Hamada while Vivian was chatting amicable with another control room employee I didn't know. I felt Owen come up behind me pulling my chair out for me. I smiled at him as I sat down and he placed a glass of wine in front of me.

As Owen took his own seat beside me I resisted the urge to chug the wine just to take the edge off. Having Owen next to me was agony as I kept replaying our kiss in my mind like a broken record. I could feel his hands on my body and his lips on mine. My body was simultaneously hot and cold all at the same time. I felt like a live wire, every sensation amplified to the 1,000th degree. As a result my dress felt like sandpaper against my skin, and I couldn't resist twisting and shifting in my seat attempting to scratch an itch I couldn't quite reach. The conversation floated around me, but I didn't hear anything. I closed my eyes breathing deep wishing this party would hurry up and end.

I felt Owen's hand graze my leg under the table and it was a minor miracle I didn't catapult backwards out of my chair straight onto the floor. He grabbed my hand giving what I thought was a sympathetic squeeze as he continued talking with Barry and Hamada who seemed unaware of my current predicament. I clung to Owen's hand like a lifeline as I sipped my wine pretending to enjoy the party. Maybe if I drank enough I could numb all sensation.

Because this was Simon's party, and he could never do anything half assed, there were about 50 dinner courses. After every course we had to "cleanse our palate". Why that involved what appeared to be sorbet I had no idea. I was fine cleansing my palate with copious amounts of wine.

The food was probably award wining, but I couldn't remember tasting a morsel. My entire awareness was trained on the man next to me. He seemed to be as miserable as I was throughout the entire affair, shifting, sighing and twitching every few minutes. To anyone who didn't know him he looked calm and unaffected, but the hard line in his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders betrayed his unaffected demeanor. After what felt like hours coffee was served signaling the officially end to dinner and the party. I'm sure the unofficial party would continue well into the morning hours, but I'd rather rip my own fingernails off one by one than stay here a minute longer.

"Well, I'm beat. Gonna call it a night. See you guys later," I said shooting out my seat like a rocket. I was so on edge I'm sure I looked like a crack addict jonesing for a fix.

Owen abruptly stood up, "I'll give you a ride home. I'm not feeling too well."

Barry smiled at us smothering a laugh with his napkin as Hamada just shook his head. Owen grabbed my hand and we practically ran out the door. I swear I heard Hamada mutter, "Jesus, I hope those two just get it over with".

Owen helped me into his Jeep and we headed home my knee bouncing repeatedly the entire ride. Nothing but silence filled the Jeep. I racked my brain for something to say, but couldn't come up with anything that wasn't R rated. Owen seemed fine with no talking so I bit my tongue and kept my dirty thoughts all to myself. I was, however, worried he was going to crush the steering wheel he was gripping it so tight. Guess I wasn't the only one struggling for control.

I stared out the window confused as we passed by my house, "Owen?" I asked pointing as my camper flew by.

Owen just shook his head hard continuing to his bungalow. I sat back in the seat wordlessly. Guess I was walking home.

Owen stopped the Jeep suddenly by his house jumping out. Unsure what was happening I opted to just stay in the car. The door was yanked open and Owen pulled me out leading me into his bungalow. I'm not usually real good at being compliant, but was making an extra effort since he seemed ready to snap.

I stood uncomfortably in Owen's living room as he shrugged off his jacket and bow tie. He was starting to worry me. I bit my lip shifting my weight from one foot to another.

"Owen?" I said quietly.

He held his hand up, "Just give me a second."

I blew out an exasperated breath. My patience rivaled that of a toddler most of the time. I tried to stay calm and quite by counting to 10, reciting the alphabet, even running through the process of breaking down and cleaning my gun. That all took about 30 seconds and I was officially biting my tongue to keep from saying anything.

I opened my mouth to speak just as Owen turned seeming to come to some kind of internal conclusion. He closed the distance between us searching my face. I raised my eyebrows at him because in all honesty I needed a decoder ring for this silent conversation.

"God you're beautiful," he said pushing my hair back behind my shoulder.

Oh, well, if that was what he was debating this whole time I was happy to wait. I felt like putty when I was with this man. Probably not a good thing, but I couldn't bring myself to care. He pulled me to him kissing me softly, almost like a question. I didn't know what the question entailed, but my answer was an unequivocal yes.

I tried to deepen the kiss, but Owen pulled away looking down. Ok, now I was officially confused.

"Jo, I want this. I want you," he said in a pained voice. That was the best news I'd heard all night. Let's get this party started. "But it can't just be one time. I…I can't have you then let you go."

I stepped back putting distance between us, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want you. All your flaws, mistakes, smiles, jokes, sarcasm, everything. I want it all."

I gaped at him unable to form a response while my heart swelled. All my life I had waited for someone to want me, to accept me, and now the man in front of me was saying just that. I was equal parts exhilarated and petrified. Never having anyone care about me made it easy to never put myself out there. Now, I had a decision to make. Believe Owen's statement and take a leap of faith or do what I did best and run like hell.

I don't think there was ever a decision to make. Owen was as essential to my life as my breathing - effortless, natural. Somewhere, somehow he had invaded my life and taken my heart. Walking away from him would be paramount to death. I needed him, and what's more, I wanted him.

I walked towards him throwing my arms around his neck. His arms automatically went around my waist as I pressed my lips to his. I was vaguely aware it was the first time I had ever initiated a kiss. He effortlessly lifted me in his arms walking us to his bedroom. He laid me gently on the bed hovering over me.

"Are you sure? There's no going back after this," he asked looking me in the eye.

"I'm sure," I said breathlessly.

I pulled him down, his weight heaven as it pressed me into the mattress. A smile touched his lips as he kissed me with so much passion I swear the world tilted off its axis. My heart was pounding in my chest as heat spread through my body. He kissed my cheek, trailing down my neck as I tilted my head back. He nipped and sucked at the pulse in my neck as my hands weaved into his hair pulling at him. I needed more, needed him closer.

I didn't know where he ended and I began. I was lost in a sea of sensation. I felt Owen slipping the straps of my dress down as I wiggled allowing him to disrobe me. I would normally feel self-conscious laid bare, but I had abandoned modesty somewhere in the living room. I tugged and pulled at his shirt attempted to even the playing field. Owen pulled hard at the buttons on his shirt tearing them free, and tossing his shirt aside. Apparently buttons were too time consuming.

I rubbed my hands down his chest to his hard abs almost salivating, "It's about time."

He chuckled softly and then we were kissing again. His hands were everywhere moving with finely tuned precision. We took our time exploring each other. My awareness faded to nothing but him as our bodies became one. I felt like I was free falling out of an airplane. Nothing else mattered except right here, right now, with Owen.

For tonight, everything was perfect.

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 **SaphiraRyuuka: Hope it was worth the wait. Thanks for reading!  
**

 **Kat: Thanks! Enjoy :)**

 **Storylover00: Thanks again for another review :) Hope you liked this one.**

 **musa22lbl: Thanks for the idea about an Owen POV. I was thinking of doing a companion piece to this one when I was done in his POV so we can see his wheels turning during all this craziness. That is if I have time ;)**

 **Mystery Guest: Hope the wait wasn't too bad and you liked the conclusion.**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for the great review...it means a lot! Hope you enjoyed how this played out.**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks! FYI, love your avatar pic...just saw the movie a few days ago and loved it!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I agree, I feel like that when I have to get ready for stuff like the gala. It doesn't happen often, but I need sedation when it does to make it through. Thanks for sticking with me!**

 **animagirl: I did have a great one, thanks! Hope yours was amaze balls too :) Thanks for continuing to read and review!**

 **angelicedg: Your review was almost omnipotent...LOL! Hope you liked how it all played out :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Angst alert. Time to put the kids to bed and get out your comfort food...it's about to get real.  
**

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 _Smoke._

 _Fire._

 _Burning flesh._

 _It clogged my nose making me gag, forcing me to breathe uneasily through my mouth. Shouts and screams littered the night in every direction. I was huddled behind a Humvee amid a hail of gunfire. The clicks and pops of bullets whizzing by told me the enemy was close to hitting their mark. I leaned forward attempting to see the other Humvee's in the distance. As soon as my head poked out past the tire gunfire erupted from across the berm forcing me to dive for cover._

 _Our convoy was on the way to meet an informant with potential information on Ali Hassan al-Majid, a top tier target identified internally as the King of Spades. He was a military commander for the Iraqi Intelligence Service earning the name 'Chemical Ali' for his use of chemical weapons in attacks against the Kurds. As such, he was the fifth most-wanted man in Iraq facing charges of genocide and crimes against humanity. Basically, the guy was bad news._

 _I had worked a source for weeks who had promised al-Majid was due to attend a leadership meeting tonight in a small rural village. I had lobbied for days with my command, arguing the validity of the intelligence, and convincing them the risk of placing American forces this far outside the wire was well worth the risk. If we could observe al-Majid entering the meeting we would have a chance to take him out. If we missed him my source could still relay what had occurred in the meeting which could potentially lead to vital intelligence we desperately needed. In the end, I was granted permission to set up an observation post in the village the meeting was set to occur in with the intention of identifying al-Majid._

 _We were a few miles outside the village when an IED detonated near the front of the convoy. It had obliterated the lead Humvee instantly killing the four men inside, and put the second out of commission. The rest of us poured out of the remaining Humvee's as gunfire exploded from behind the berm to our right. We were pinned down, unable to move out from behind our limited cover without exposing ourselves. I ordered the sergeant nearest me to radio for air support and a MEDEVAC helicopter for the wounded._

" _Ma'am, air support is incoming. We have to move back. We're popping smoke for the MEDEVAC," Sergeant Gerhart yelled over the chaos._

" _I'm not leaving them," I yelled back pointing towards the disabled Humvee about 150 yards ahead of us._

 _I could see two, maybe three, Soldiers huddled behind the wreckage attempting to return fire. I glanced around the front end of my Humvee straining to see in the dark. I could see tracers firing in the distance lighting up the night temporarily. The relentless suppressive fire of the enemy seemed to have let up fractionally making me worried. They had us pinned down and helpless, why not finish the job?_

 _I turned wide-eyed looking at Sergeant Gerhart, "They're trying to flank us to the left. They'll have a clear shot at them if we don't get them out now."_

" _Ma'am, there's nothing we can do. We have to fall back."_

 _I grabbed Sergeant Gerhart by his uniform dragging him towards me, "We are not leaving them behind! I'm going to get them. Provide suppressive fire when I say or I'll shoot you myself!"_

 _He nodded reluctantly relaying the plan to the remaining members of the platoon still in the fight. I changed out the magazine on my M4 getting down into a squat looking back at the remaining troops. I nodded once at Sergeant Gerhart, and he called out the command for covering fire over the radio. All at once every weapon we had fired in the direction of the berm._

 _I sprinted the distance to the Humvee trying to stay as low as possible. Hopefully, the enemy would be too busy keeping their heads down to notice my movement. The three remaining Soldiers saw me coming opening up their own barrage of bullets. I slide to a stop on my knees facing the men. I only recognized Staff Sergeant Hamada by name. He and I had met at the beginning of our tour, and had formed an easy friendship of sorts._

 _He looked terrible and hurt; a large head wound was pouring blood down his face obscuring his vision. The nasty cut disappeared into his hairline and I instantly worried he'd be unable to remain conscious long enough to get out of here. He was also favoring his right leg, but was still putting up one hell of a fight. The other two were just kids and they looked scared shitless. I smiled encouragingly even though I didn't have a lot of hope in our current predicament._

 _What I hadn't noticed until now was a fourth Soldier lying flat on his back panting quickly, a huge gaping hole where his stomach should have been. Parts of his stomach and intestines were lying outside his body as he futilely tried to cram his body parts back inside. I crawled to him looking at the wound then to Hamada who just shook his head. I tore my eyes from him looking down at the Private smiling softly._

" _What's your name Soldier?" I asked grabbing his hand holding on tight._

" _Paige ma'am. Jason Paige," he replied weakly. "Am I going to be ok?"_

" _You're going to be just fine. You just sit tight. Help is on the way," I lied choking back tears._

" _I'm so scared," he cried. "I don't want to let you all down."_

 _I wiped the tears from his face pulling out a vile of morphine from my pack. I stuck him in the leg hoping the medicine would take the edge off. Paige's breathing became increasingly erratic as he coughed, blood dripping out of his mouth running down his chin._

" _You didn't. You did good Paige. Real good," I consoled him wiping some of the blood from his face._

 _He smiled taking one last shuttering breath before falling still, his eyes wide. I dropped my head placing my hands over his eyes closing them. A huge explosion detonated 50 feet from our position and we were all thrown to the ground. They were dialing in their mortars. Time to go._

 _I used my radio to tell Sergeant Gerhart we were heading back and to get ready with some covering fire. I laid out the basic plan to the remaining men. It wasn't really all that complicated, run like hell towards the MEDEVAC._

" _We can't just leave him here," one of the Soldiers implored gesturing to Paige's body._

" _We're not going to leave him. Reinforcements are inbound. Everyone will come home. You have my word, but we have to get you all out of here," I told him hearing the helicopter in the distance._

 _Sergeant Gerhart replied they were ready, and as soon as the gunfire rang out we all shot forward. I had my arm around Hamada half dragging him towards what remained of the platoon. He stumbled, falling in a heap, dragging me down with him._

" _Ma'am, you have to leave me. I can't make it," Hamada groaned beside me in obvious pain._

 _I knelt beside him returning fire, "I'm not leaving you either Hamada. You are getting on that helicopter if it's the last thing I do."_

 _I heard our platoon let loose another round of suppressive fire and stood up grabbing Hamada by his gear, dragging him to his feet. I practically carried Hamada the remaining distance straining against his weight. Sergeant Gerhart ran out supporting Hamada on the other side as we closed the remaining distance to the MEDEVAC._

 _We hoisted him on the helicopter as the medics attended to him immediately. I stepped back looking back towards the burning remains of our convoy counting the lives that were lost tonight. At least five that I knew about, but who knew what the final body count would be. I had lost eyes on a majority of platoon when the IED hit._

 _All those men, kids really, dead because of me._

I was vaguely aware of someone calling my name, but it sounded so far away. I was locked in the grips of my nightmare back on that desolate road in Iraq. My eyes shot open and all I could see was a shadowy figure looming over me. I lashed out instantly delivering a harsh jab to their solar plexus. The figure was caught off guard, and let out a groan falling to the side. Instinctively I moved into a dominant position on top of the threat drawing my fist back. I could hear the figure talking, but couldn't make out any of his words. I needed to fight. I needed to take out the threat.

The man caught my fist expertly rolling me so he was on top. I locked my legs around his waist, and attempted to maneuver myself into a more defensible position. It was all in vain, this guy was big and he was skilled.

He pinned my hands above my head yelling, "Come on Jo, snap out of it!"

I froze blinking rapidly. My eyes seem to focus for the first time and I saw Owen's worried face hovering over me.

"Owen?"

He sagged with relief releasing my hands as I let my legs fall to the side. The reality of the situation sank in and I closed my eyes in mortification. Owen rolled off me and I immediately got out of bed grabbing one of his T-shirts throwing it on. I searched around the room before I found a pair of basketball shorts rolling them down four times so they would stay on. I was out of the bedroom before Owen seemed to realize my intentions.

"Where are you going?" he called from behind me throwing on clothes.

"Home." I was at the door when he caught up to me blocking my escape route.

"Hey, don't do this. Talk to me," he begged.

Oh, that was so not happening.

"Get out of my way Owen."

His lips pressed into a thin line, "No. Not until you tell me what's going on."

"You're a pretty smart guy. I'm sure you can figure it out," I snapped at him.

"And so are you, I'm sure you know that's not what I meant. Talk to me."

"I'm sorry Dr. Phil I don't feel like sharing right now."

His eyes narrowed and I attempted to squeeze past him. His hand stretched out blocking my way, and I yelled in frustration.

"Move! Just let me go!" I screamed at him. Tears were streaming down my face, but I was too pissed to be care.

His gaze softened and he reached for me. I backed away from him shaking my head.

"I'm not letting you leave after what happened. If you don't want to talk about it fine, but you're not leaving," he said crossing his arms over his chest.

"You really think you can stop me?" I taunted.

"Don't do that. Don't try to deflect this with violence or sarcasm."

His words were like pouring lighter fluid on a raging fire, "Get out of my fucking way! I swear to god if you don't move I will make you move!"

He breathed deep tilting his head as he watched me snarling before him. He didn't look the least bit concerned by my threats.

"I don't think you will," he replied evenly.

"What? You think we sleep together once and now we have some kind of bond. Well, I hate to break it to you Owen, but it was just sex," I lied. I didn't know why I was saying any of this. Maybe I wanted someone to hurt as bad as I was hurting. Logic wasn't really at the forefront of my mind.

"That's pathetic Jo, really. Don't give me that bullshit," Owen replied his voice rising slightly.

"Is that a problem? Can't take the hit to your ego?" Now, I was just being a bitch, but I couldn't seem to stop. I was vaguely aware I was ruining the best thing in my life, but I there was no stopping this crazy train.

Owen fists were clenched at his sides as he watched me, "Oh, I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern though. You're still not leaving."

I spun around clenching my eyes shut in frustration. I paced his small living room like a caged lion. I felt like if I didn't get out of this bungalow right now I would explode.

"Jo," Owen said softly from behind me. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Please."

How many times in my life had I heard those words only to expose them for what they were, lies. I whirled on him fury in my eyes.

"Why do you care?!" I screamed getting in his face.

"Because I love you dammit!" he yelled back.

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was like being dowsed in a bucket of cold water.

"What?" I whispered stepping back.

He ran a hand through his hair huffing out a breath, "This is not exactly how I pictured having this conversation, but I love you Jo. Since the moment I stepped off that elevator and ran into you you've turned my world upside down and I love it. I didn't realize what I was missing in my life until I met you."

This was wrong. Owen couldn't love someone like me. He was a normal guy from a solid background. I was….not.

I shook my head at him, "You don't know what you're saying."

"I know this is hard for you to understand, but you don't get to tell me how I feel."

This was insanity. Owen had lost his ever-loving mind.

"You can't love me because you don't even know me," I fired back at him.

"And whose fault is that?"

Touché.

"It doesn't matter," I told him defiantly. Owen thought what little we had shared meant he knew the real me. The sad truth was it hardly scratched the surface. If he knew even a fraction of my twisted history he'd run screaming for the hills.

"Oh I think it does," he said stepping towards me. "You are so scared of being discarded you refuse to let anyone get close. You torture yourself with events in your past in the hopes of making amends."

"You don't know shit," I shot at him. He had hit way too close to the mark for my liking.

"Why don't you enlighten me then," he retorted.

Later, I wouldn't be able to pinpoint one thing that swayed my decision to lose my shit. Maybe it was the thought of finally sharing everything with someone. Maybe it was a challenge to see if he could really reconcile what he thought he knew with the real me. Whatever it was he had unleashed I could no longer contain it. It was like a dam in the deepest recesses of my mind broke free, a flood of emotions and memories surged forward I was unable to stop. A hysterical laugh bubbled up as tipped my head back cackling; even to my own ears it sounded a little crazy. This was not going to end well. Choo choo, everyone on board, the crazy train is leaving the station.

"You want to talk Owen? Ok, let's talk. You think you can handle knowing the real me, let's put that theory to the test. I bet you've never met anyone whose own parents couldn't be bothered with them considering you grew up like the Brady Bunch. I bet that kind of upbringing is real comforting. Me on the other hand, I was abandoned on the steps of a firehouse a few hours after I was born. How's that for honest? No big deal really, I was just a baby so I don't remember my parents throwing me out like trash. Besides, I'm sure that happens all the time.

"It only gets better from there, since I had no parents I was taken in by child protective services, and lived most of my childhood at an orphanage. I got to watch all the other kids get adopted day after day while I was passed over like a defective toy. It's probably what dogs at the pound feel like when potential owners come to look at them, but decide pet ownership just isn't for them. Could be worse though because sometimes I had foster parents take me in for short periods of time, and since they only did it for the money it was a bit lacking in the love department, but they more than made up for it in abuse when the mood struck them. And believe me, the mood always strikes them! It wasn't a complete loss though because it helped me develop a really interesting skill set. Hiding, stealing, fighting, all useful skills for a child. The real key is learning how to be invisible, it helps cut down on the beatings, and I was exceptionally good at that.

"Sometimes though it's better to cut your loses and just runaway. No matter how good you are at hiding the really determined one's always find you, and no amount of food or shelter is worth those kinds of beatings. Besides, the street isn't all bad, but when you're 6 years-old it can be a bit overwhelming. If you want to survive you have to find a gang willing to take you in. Without people to watch your back you're as good as dead. Thankfully, I've always been resourceful and that comes in real handy when you're living on the street. You may not always have food or shelter, but you had freedom. I got good at finding what my gang wanted or needed. I learned how to lie, cheat and steal in any situation. That's how I was able to lift the access card to the server room so easily, because I've done it my whole life. I've done anything and everything you can imagine to survive. I've made every mistake you could possibly make and then some. Sure, you lose a little of your humanity, not to mention your childhood, but it beats being dead.

"But hey, you already know me, right? We can move past all that pitiful childhood stuff. Why don't we talk about the Army? That's what my dream was about by the way. Specifically, a mission I planned and executed that resulted in the loss of five lives. To really add insult to injury most of them were kids…the oldest was only 20. I held one of their hands as he died an excruciatingly painful death because there was a gaping hole in his stomach from shrapnel almost ripping him in half. I lied and told him he would be fine, and watched him die in that desert thousands of miles from home. They weren't the only one's either, I can't tell you how many people died because of my failures over there. Guess it's not hard to imagine why I chose to get out, kind of selfish to stay in if all you're doing is harming your own.

"Hey, everyone has down times now and again. No big deal. The F.B.I. was a WAY better. I was taught to use my "special skill set" to study and track down homicidal, sociopathic, serial killers. If that doesn't sound like fun I don't know what does! The best part was having to stand in front of their families when I was too late to save their loved ones. Since I grew up lying for a living it was easy to feed them the bullshit line that their family member didn't suffer or that their death was quick. That's the biggest lie of all because it never was, ever. They all died in the most horrific ways you can imagine. I thought I had seen the worst that humanity could do to each other in war, but boy was I wrong.

"The best parts though were the hostage scenarios. You wouldn't think they happen that often, but you'd be wrong. I was called in to negotiate tons of them in the limited time I was there. Par for the course, the last one I was at resulted in the loss of an entire family. Three of them were kids, the youngest of whom was 3 years-old. They were killed by their father, five feet in front of me, while I was helpless to stop it. Everyone who comes into my life ends up hurting or dead. There is no redemption for someone like me, no happy ending."

I finished in a flurry, suddenly exhausted, falling back against the wall and sinking down to the ground. At some point during my tirade I had started crying, and the waterworks were really flowing now. I pulled my knees to my chest wrapping my hands around them letting my head fall. I was losing it, right here in Owen's bungalow.

I felt Owen sit down next to me, slowly, almost like he was afraid of startling me. To be honest, I had forgotten he was even in the room. He reached out, wrapping his arm around my shoulder pulling me towards him. I sobbed loudly unable to comprehend why he was still here, much less willing to hold me. He pulled me onto his lap, and I buried my head in his chest wrapping my arms around his neck holding on for dear life.

Owen whispered softly in my ear, but I didn't understand anything. I hadn't cried like this since I was a child. I cried until my body hurt and I was physically unable to produce more tears. He held me throughout the whole ordeal rubbing my back soothingly, rocking me in his lap.

I finally quieted down to just the occasional sniffle pulling away from Owen to look at his face. His shirt was drenched with my tears, but his face was filled with nothing but love and compassion. I didn't understand this man. His actions went against everything I had learned throughout my life.

"Why are you still here?" I asked him wiping at my eyes.

Owen smiled softly running his hands through my hair, "I told you, I love you."

I leaned forward kissing him as I felt myself tear up again. I didn't know how to tell him it was the first time anyone had ever said those words to me.

* * *

 **VR Miller: Thanks for the great review! I'm glad you like Jo and the other characters personalities. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Storylover00: I know right...finally :) Hope it was worth the wait.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: LOL!**

 **Korraismygirl: Thanks for the great review! I have had other people ask for Owen POV also and I'm thinking of doing a follow-up story once this is complete from his POV to give insight into what he's thinking while Jo is out being cray cray. I could do that before starting the sequel to this story that will take the characters through the movie...thoughts?**

 **twifan1987: Perfection! Thanks...I think so too.**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks again for the great review. Hope you liked the follow-up in the chapter. We get to see a little more into Jo's past and I think that's important...plus, Jo and Owen will never be easy or conventional :)**

 **fandomenforcer: I know, me too. I wanted to build it and make them work for it and I think they earned their roll in the sheets...LOL. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **angleicedg: Thanks! Hope you enjoyed the latest installment.  
**


	25. Chapter 25

**Sorry for the delay in updating, but I've been planning and executing my son's birthday party. Almost six-year-olds are so needy :)**

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It had been 24 hours since my emotional breakdown, and Owen and I had yet to leave his bungalow. Hell, we'd hardly left the bedroom for anything other than necessities, like food or a shower. We were insulated in his bedroom, locked away from the chaos as the world kept on spinning. I kept thinking back to one of my childhood therapists who use to tell me that sometimes the people with the worst pasts end up creating the best futures. I really hoped that lunatic was right about this one because lord knows she was wrong about everything else.

We found an easy rhythm to our relationship, and it felt like we had been together for years, not hours. Owen didn't dig deeper for any more information, and as a result, I found myself offering up tidbits here and there without even thinking about it. He would sit silently listening to whatever I chose to share giving me his undivided attention. Sometimes he would ask questions, other times he would just hold me, keeping me grounded while I recounted some of the worst moments of my life. I didn't feel awkward or self-conscious about anything I chose to tell him, instead I felt liberated, free. Owen had a way of showing he cared without it coming off like pity. He made me feel safe, cared for, and most of all, loved. In the back of my mind my inner skeptic kept telling me he was too good for me, but I didn't care. I was going to hold him tight with both hands and keep him for as long as I could.

I felt like a new person after opening myself up to Owen. I'd never seen any life transformation that didn't begin with the person in question finally getting sick of their own bullshit, and I fit that description to a tee.

Unfortunately, our little paradise came crashing down mid-morning a day and half after the gala. Time waits for no man, and apparently no one waits for Barry either. However, pounding on the outside of Owen's bungalow threatening a sexual intervention was slight overkill.

"It's been almost two days you guys! Give it a rest already," Barry yelled.

I groaned letting my head fall on Owen's chest, "What are the chances he will just go away if we ignore him?"

"Slim to none," Owen said chuckling. "Get dressed, I'll meet you outside."

I watched Owen get out of bed, wondering what I did to get so lucky and thoroughly enjoying the view as he slipped on some board shorts leaving the bedroom. Barry was such a party pooper. I sighed; I guess our little bubble was bound to burst eventually, but would it have killed the guy to wait until after breakfast? I climbed out of bed rooting through Owen's drawers for clothes, grabbing a T-shirt with 'Property of the U.S. Navy' printed across the front, and a pair of his sweatpants. I tried really hard to not bury my head in his clothes and inhale the scent like a total freak, but self-control has never been my BFF. Besides, it should be illegal for a human being to smell that good naturally so I can't be held accountable for my actions.

I made my way to the front door swinging it open instantly blinded by the blaring sunlight feeling like a vampire exposed to the sun for the first time. Maybe Barry had a point about leaving the house every few days.

I saw Owen, Barry and Lowery seated in lawn chairs littered around the side of the yard already deep in discussion about something. I made my way over sitting down in between Owen and Barry propping my bare feet up on an old milk crate.

"Wow Jo, that is one impressive walk of shame," Lowery whistled.

I debated handling the situation like an adult for about three seconds then I shot him the finger. "Did you both come over here just to critique my wardrobe? Cause I gotta tell you, I was having more fun before you showed up."

Lowery's face turned so red I was worried his head might explode, and Barry just laughed quietly shaking his head. Owen pinned me with a smoldering gaze, his eyes darkening instantly at my insinuation. Instantly my mouth dried up and I felt light headed. Boy oh boy, this man would be the death of me, but what a way to go.

"If you guys could keep your hands to yourselves for a few minutes that would be helpful," Barry stated bluntly. I stuck my tongue out at him. He was no fun. "We need to discuss what you found the night of the gala."

And just like that my little timeout was over. I looked to Owen giving him the go ahead to explain what we had uncovered. He slowly recounted all the details from both the raptor and Indominus Rex files. Barry's mood soured immediately, while Lowery seemed nervous, biting his nails the entire time. I agreed with both reactions. Bottom line up front, this was not good. When Owen finished no one spoke, everyone silently contemplating the implications of what we had found.

"Not to be the odd man out here, but the information on the raptors isn't really that surprising," Lowery muttered unsure of his opinion.

Owen and Barry both turned their eyes to him. Their postures clearly conveyed they did not share the same point-of-view.

"He's right," I said coming to his defense, "Why invest money, time and resources in the raptors if they were never going to be incorporated in the park in some way."

"You agree with what they are trying to do?" Owen asked, his displeasure leaking out.

I shook my head, "I'm not saying it's a good idea or even a viable one, but if you look at it from Simon's perspective there's no money in raptors if they aren't eventually an attraction."

"They will never be safe," Barry pointed out. "Everything we are doing is purely research, science. The notion they can ever be tamed is ludicrous."

Thanks Captain Obvious. Were any of the dinosaurs on this island safe?

"I agree and I think Simon does too, but to secure funding for the project you have to have some kind of end game. People don't donate millions of dollars because their good guys. They want measurable, tangible results."

"That isn't the part we should be focused on," Owen pointed out. "It's InGen thinking they can be used as weapons that concerns me."

Yeah, me too. Everyone seemed to agree on that particular point, but I wasn't sure what we could realistically do to stop it.

"Um, not to say the raptors aren't important, but what about the evidence suggesting there is an actual genetic hybrid somewhere on this island," Lowery said tentatively.

We had 99 problems, and apparently a genetic hybrid was one. Jay-Z would not be impressed.

"That is an entirely different story. The raptors being militarized is bad. A completely new species of dinosaur running loose in the middle of Central America kinda makes me want to update my resume," I responded rubbing my temples.

"So, what do we do?" Lowery asked the group.

I ran my hands through my hair sitting up, "I take it to Simon."

"No!"

"No way!"

Barry and Owen responded in chorus.

I held my hands up in question, "Well, what do you propose we do? Just sit on the information? Kindly ask InGen to stop making genetic hybrids and leave your raptors alone?"

Silence.

Yeah, that's what I thought.

"Simon is our only option. He either lied to my face about all this or he has no idea. My gut says he's in the dark. We can change that," I told them.

"And what if he did know?" Owen shot back.

"Well, we cross that bridge when we come to it. If we do nothing then what was the point of all this? We have to try."

Barry shook his head in agreement as Owen contemplated my words. Lowery still looked like he was going to puke.

"Why does it have to be you?" Owen asked.

"Who else is going to do it?" I told him softly. "Simon trust me, and he trust my judgment. He'll listen to what I have to say." As a side note, that fact was a scary notion. Simon should maybe re-evaluate things.

"It makes you a target," Owen said standing up, pacing in front of the group.

"I'm already a target." Owen abruptly stopped pacing to glare at me. I shrugged. It was the truth.

"That doesn't fill me with warm fuzzies Jo."

"It's our best option Owen," Barry said coming to my rescue. I silently thanked him for taking the spotlight off me. Now Barry was the focus of Owen's hateful gaze. Bad for Barry, good for me.

Owen finally relented, albeit reluctantly, "Fine. Jo will talk to Simon."

Lowery and Barry stood saying their goodbyes and leaving. I stayed in my lawn chair unsure of exactly how upset Owen was over the current chain of events. In all honesty, I'm not sure what he was so uptight about. All I had to do was tell Simon employees in his company were going behind his back and deliberately disobeying his directives. Simple.

"Why do you always put yourself in these situations?" he asked me.

I stood up walking over to stand in front of him, "Because it's my job."

I wrapped my arms around his neck hugging him tight. I knew he was worried, but when you compared it to most things I faced on a daily basis it was a cakewalk.

"Come on," I said pulling him towards the bungalow.

"You think you can distract me with sex?" he asked laughter in his voice.

"Well…yeah." My inner slut was chugging an energy drink and limbering up wondering why we had taken a break in the first place.

He pretended to struggle with a decision before lifting me off my feet and throwing me over his shoulder. I couldn't help but let out a very girly screech in response.

"Don't think this conversation is over," he told me patting my ass as he carried me inside.

Hours later we both lay in bed lost in our own thoughts. I was worried Simon wasn't the man I thought he was, and what that would mean for the future of the park or me if he had lied. I didn't know if I could work here knowing this entire park was perpetrating a fraud. On the flip side, I wasn't sure I could leave either.

"You need to be careful tomorrow. No matter how Simon reacts, what he knows, this is a very delicate situation," Owen said holding me close.

"I know. I can do delicate."

He snorted, "Really?"

"Of course, but I only break it out in extreme circumstances."

"I love you," he said, a low laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

I smiled in return placing a kiss on his lips. Owen had told me he loved me a handful of times over the past few days, and every time he did it made my heart skip a beat. He wasn't one of those guys who said it every minute because they were trying to win brownie points. When Owen said he loved me it was because he felt it in his soul.

I hadn't said it back, and I felt myself die a little every time. It wasn't that I didn't love Owen because I was 99% sure I did, but I'm so messed up my issues have issues. I just couldn't seem to say the words. I felt them, but there seemed to be some kind of mental block precluding me from reciprocating. I didn't know how to let someone love me, much less love someone in return. Turns out shedding all my self-preservation instincts was easier said than done. I had spent a lifetime protecting myself from anyone who could hurt me and I was scared voicing my feelings for Owen would obliterate my last line of defense. It would mean losing myself completely in another individual. Basically, it fucking scared me to death.

What's worse is I was terrified he would feel rejection or simply get tired of waiting so I tried to show him I loved him instead. It was a poor substitute, but there was a real chance I would never be able to put a voice to my feelings. Just ask Dr. Price and my diary. As a child I was forced to grow up overnight, and it had left holes in my development that had never been filled. Functioning adult relationships were not something I knew anything about.

I sat up crossing my legs as I looked at Owen, "I…I don't want you to…I need you to know…"

"Hey, it's ok. I know," Owen told me holding my hand. "I told you, I want you. As much or as little as you can give me. I'm not going anywhere."

"I just want to be enough," I whispered.

Owen sat up cradling my head in his hands, "You are. You're everything to me now. That won't change."

His eyes didn't waver from mine as he searched my face. I wanted so badly to believe him, but I knew enough about myself to know I was hard to handle. I could drive a nun to drink on my lunch break.

Tonight, I chose to believe him.

* * *

 **Jahoney: Wow, you've been busy. Thank you for all the constructive reviews. I'm sorry you found some of the chapters confusing or choppy. If it helps the story is all 1st person and is told from Jo's POV. I will work on making it easier to follow. Thanks for reading and hope you stick with the story.  
**

 **Nia Scarlet: Thank you so much for reading. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: Hi old friend, thanks for reading and reviewing. I know you were crying, but I hope it was a good thing ;) This chapter gives us all a much needed break from the angst so I hope you enjoyed!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: I think so too...you nailed it :)**

 **BlueEyedPices: Wow, thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you like the story and I humbly accept your Best OC award for Jo...LOL! Hope you keep reading and enjoying!**

 **localsamurai: So glad you liked the chapter. It was tough and emotional, but I agree with you that it was needed. Hope you enjoyed the latest.**

 **Korraismygirl: I've been thinking about the Owen POV companion piece to this one and have some good ideas. Hopefully I will have some time after this is done to get some out. Thanks for the feedback and hope you keep reading.**

 **twinfan1987: Yeah, that was a tough one, but she'll be better for it in the end. Thanks for reading!**

 **angelicedg: Agreed, on both accounts. It will most definitely put these two on another level. Thanks for reading!**


	26. Chapter 26

I left Owen's before sunrise so I could go back to my place for the first time in what felt like a week. I had to mentally prepare myself for what could turn out to be one really bad day, and still beat Simon into the office. A normal person would probably call to schedule an appointment if they needed to talk to the CEO of the company. I was anything but normal so I bypassed that step. Plus, I didn't want him to see me coming.

It was just before seven o'clock in the morning when I broke into Simon's office. Technically speaking, I didn't think picking the lock on his office door constituted breaking and entering, but a pesky little thing called the justice system disagreed with me. I wasn't really sure what time he normally arrived for work so I stretched out on his leather couch, cradling my pumpkin spice latte like a blanket, to wait him out.

About an hour later I heard Simon talking to his secretary in the hallway right before he walked through the door. He passed by without noticing me sprawled on his leather furniture. Simon's situational awareness really sucked. I sat up slowly finishing off my coffee as he puttered around his desk.

"Good morning," I called out to him.

He jumped about three feet in the air grabbing his chest. It was really funny.

"My god Jo! You scared me half to death. What are you doing here so early?"

"I need to talk to you," I said stating the obvious. I stood up and walked to his door, locking it. This was the type of conversation that needed no interruptions.

"What's wrong?" Simon asked alarmed.

I walked over taking a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk. Simon might not know it, but this wasn't going to be a conversation, it was going to be an interrogation. I needed to assess whether he had lied to me about anything regarding the raptors or the Indominus Rex. A person's body language, breathing, and even the way they structured their responses could be a tell as to the truth or deceit of their statement. I was trained to sniff out a lie with the efficiency of a bloodhound.

"I need to ask you some things and I want you to be honest with me," I told him slowly. "It won't be easy to hear and there are certain things I can't tell you, but what questions I can answer, I will."

He eyed me critically and I saw his persona change from Simon to the CEO of Masrani Global Corporation as he raised his guard. Whatever blows your skirt up man. I didn't care what kind of emotional armor he dawned as long as he didn't think he could lie to me. We could do this the easy way or the hard way, but we were going to do this.

"Your company intends to retrain the Velociraptor's instincts to serve human needs, correct?" I asked already knowing the answer.

His eyes narrowed in on mine no doubt trying to figure out the source of my insider information. Good luck with that one.

"Yes, that is correct." Good. So far one question and one truthful answer. I didn't have time for bullshit and apparently neither did Simon.

"Were you aware of InGen's intention to use that development for military purposes prior to me bringing it to your attention?" I was easing into it; I didn't want to go for the knock out punch right out of the gate.

"No," Simon answered leaning back in his char snapping his jaw shut. He was pissed. I could tell from his body language he was not a happy camper about being kept in the dark by his employees. I felt my nerves relax the slightest bit. It was still a shit situation, but at least Simon wasn't a lying, manipulative bastard. Yet.

"You do realize the probability of them ever being retrained enough to even be incorporated into the park is slim, and the notion they could be used effectively as a weapon is preposterous?" I said watching him closely.

He tilted his head to the side studying me, and I was keenly aware that I wasn't the only one evaluating the situation. Simon may not have any formal training in interrogation or profiling, but he wasn't a gazillionaire for no reason.

"Yes, I am fully aware of the low probability of success," he answered giving nothing else away. I didn't need him to confirm what I already knew, he needed to sell the investors something and raptors as a park attraction came with dollar signs attached.

Enough with the heavy petting. Now it was time to get real.

"Did you ask for research possibilities concerning a genetic hybrid?"

Simon shifted slightly in his seat, his breathing coming just a hair faster than before as he interlaced his fingers in front of his mouth. He may as well have held up a sign that said "Yes Jo, that is exactly what I did" because his body language was screaming out the answer.

"Yes, but as you said, it was purely for research. We have been conducting focus groups recently and the overwhelming majority of people are not as excited as they once were when it comes to dinosaurs. We felt the need for something more exotic could be useful in the future once the glamour of the park opening has faded," he answered.

The park wasn't even fully functional yet and he was conductive focus groups on how to improve it? Can you say premature? Too bad I wasn't a part of any of his focus groups because I had some definite opinions on this subject.

Still, something was off. The way Simon felt the need to ramble on in justification of his decision was telling me he was holding something back.

"It's not just research anymore is it?" I questioned and I was really hoping he would say no, but I knew my luck wasn't that good. In fact I was pretty sure the 'L' in my luck had been permanently replaced by an 'F'.

Simon looked down at his desk, "No, apparently not."

"Care to elaborate?" If I thought Simon lying to me was bad, this was worse.

He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before continuing, "I asked Dr. Wu to look into the possibility of genetic manipulation. You have to understand if we aren't able to sustain this park with new attractions this entire endeavor is a waste. I wanted to know if it would be possible to create a dinosaur the public had never seen. He was simply supposed to research the idea and let me know its viability."

"But he did a lot more than that, didn't he? He created it," I finished. I felt chills run up my arms and I struggled to keep my seat. The fact that Dr. Wu was able to create a genetic hybrid without Simon's approval or knowledge was terrifying.

"How do you know about all this?" he asked turning the table on me.

Not in a million light years Simon, but nice try.

"How did you?" I fired back. He was crazy if he thought I was copping to breaking about 50 laws.

"After you told Claire and I about your suspicions with Hoskins I had some of my people do some digging. I've had my suspicions with InGen since the merger, but thought I had appropriate safeguards in place. Turns out I was wrong," he said sounding resigned. "My technicians found some very well hidden files which alluded to much of what we've discussed."

Bet I know where they found those files.

"Come with me," Simon said standing and walking towards the door.

I followed him as he left his office and got on the elevator taking it to the top floor. As far as I knew nothing was up here except the roof and a helipad. As the elevator doors opened I saw that I was, in fact, correct about their being a helipad, and it came complete with a shiny, new helicopter.

Simon made his way over the helicopter speaking briefly with an older gentleman. I consider myself a pretty smart person, but I didn't understand what a helicopter had to do with all this.

"Come on, I want to show you something?" Simon said walking towards the helicopter.

"If it's the helicopter, I can see it just fine from here." I didn't like where this was going.

Simon opened the door the helicopter climbing into the pilot's seat. Wait, what?

I jogged over to the door stopping Simon before he could close the door, "What are you doing?"

"There is something I need you to see and this is the only way to get there right now," Simon stated already buckling in.

"The only way to get there is in a helicopter?" I asked trying to clarify the situation. He shook his head gesturing for me to get in. "Who's going to fly the helicopter Simon?"

"I am, of course," he said confidently as the older gentleman climbed into the other pilot's seat.

Oh. Hell. No.

"Since when do you know how to fly a helicopter?" I screamed over the noise of the propellers my anxiety level rising rapidly.

Simon shrugged, "I decided to start taking lessons." Most people who want to fill their free time take up hobbies like scrapbooking or coin collecting, only insanely rich people take up flying a helicopter.

"How many lessons have you had?" I was in full-blown panic mode now.

"This will be my second, but I've always been an extremely faster learner." I now stood firmly behind my decision to panic.

I knew I should have ordered that parachute off eBay when I had the chance. And to think only days ago I thought my biggest worry was dying in a fiery motorcycle crash with Owen. Speaking of Owen, I really hoped he didn't hear about this. Something told me he wouldn't consider climbing into a helicopter with a man who'd only flown one in a video game "staying safe".

I climbed into the back of chopper strapping myself into the harness so tight I could hardly breathe. I'd been in a helo crash once in Iraq, and it was not an experience I was looking forward to repeating.

It took about 15 minutes to get wherever it was Simon wanted to show me. I almost puked twice, managing to choke it back at the last minute. The instructor wasn't so lucky and tossed his cookies as soon as we landed. Flying with Simon was like being locked in a washer when it was in the middle of a spin cycle. I was walking home. I didn't care how long it took.

I exited the helicopter, resisting the urge to kiss the ground, in front of an enormous paddock. The walls were easily 30 feet of solid concrete and reinforced steel.

"What is this?" I asked Simon as we walked towards a set of metal stairs.

"Paddock 11," he answered. Paddock 11 didn't exist as far as I knew and made a point to know pretty much everything about this park. "It is home to the two assets."

I stopped walking, slowly turning to look at Simon, "There are two Indominus Rex's in there?"

"Yes."

"How is this possible? How did you not know? This kind of operation must cost tens of millions of dollars and you just didn't notice?" I yelled at Simon my arms flailing around.

"Jo, I have billions invested in this park. Millions are allocated daily to its function and development. When you combine that with people actively seeking to deceive me it's not that hard to imagine."

You know you are officially too rich when you don't notice $50 million disappearing from your bank account. We continued up the stairs entering a small observation tower. There was a wall of thick shatterproof glass on one side exposing what appeared to be a holding pen since it was too small to house a dinosaur for any length of time comfortably. There was one employee sitting at a control panel in the corner with the name 'Nick' written in large print across his shirt.

"Jesus Christ Simon," I muttered walking towards the glass looking at the paddock. "Do you know exactly what this thing is made of?"

When he didn't answer right away I turned to look at him. He was staring at the floor tension keeping his body rigid. Fucking shit. He didn't know. We were so screwed.

"You need to terminate these things now Simon. This isn't a game. You can't allow a genetically modified hybrid you know nothing about to be here."

"It's not that simple. As you can see we have quite a lot invested at the moment. Believe me, I'm not happy about how this played out, but simple terminating the assets is a waste of resources," he said sounding every bit the shrewd business man.

"You don't know what's out there! You don't know what it's capable of! How can you possible think this will end well?" I yelled at him. I was starting to question Simon's judgment, and that's really saying something coming from someone like me. If I'm the only sane voice in the room it's time to find a new room.

Just as I finished I heard a snarl from inside the paddock. I turned around, seeing two dinosaurs emerge from the foliage. At first glance they resembled a T-Rex, but as they stalked forward it was clearly apparent something was different. Their skin was a sickly gray color covered in what appeared to be small diamond shaped scales. There were spikes covering the back of their enormous heads that trailed down their back. I squinted seeing what appeared to be horns directly above their blood red eyes. I had no idea how old they were, but they were already bigger than Owen's raptors. They were absolutely horrifying.

I felt my stomach twist uncomfortably as I watched the dinosaurs stalked towards the center of the pen then pause looking me dead in the eye. Simon may have brought me here to assess these animals and their enclosure, but the dinosaurs on the other side of this glass were studying us. I was positive of it. The way they tracked my movements as I walked back and forth in front of the window, letting out low chirps and growls was all the confirmation I needed.

"Are you seeing this?" I asked Simon.

He came to stand next to me watching the dinosaurs, as the two of them seemed to be having a conversation. Suddenly, the one of the left snapped at the other lunging forward slightly in aggravation. With speed that was astonishing the one on the right turned striking out, her massive jaw seemed to unhinge as she lunged for the throat of her sibling. Rows of razor sharp teeth cut through her sibling's skin like a warm knife through butter as I fought the bile rising in my throat. Blood sprayed the ground as the dinosaur in distress clawed and bit at its aggressor fighting for survival. It was all in vain as the dominant I-Rex violently shook the smaller dinosaur viciously from side to side. The smaller I-Rex crumbled to the ground no longer able to withstand the onslaught. Simon covered his mouth turning away from the massacre and rushing out of the room. I watched as the larger I-Rex slowly and meticulously devoured her sibling.

Well, on a positive note, at least we didn't have two Indominus Rex's on the island anymore.

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 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for the amazing review! I thought it was important to delve a little into Jo's background so we know why she is the way she is. I'm glad you enjoyed it.  
**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: I love it too! They are my favorite make believe couple and it has absolutely nothing to do with the fact their mine...ok, so maybe a little. Thanks for reading!**

 **ZabuzasGirl: Thanks for reading and the review! Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter.**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: :) I think so too...glad you agree!**

 **twifan1987: LOL! That made me laugh. No, not at all...those two just have a lot of unresolved sexual tension to work out. Thanks for reading!**

 **BlueEyedPisces: I hope the confrontation with Simon didn't disappoint. Glad you like the inner monologues...I like them too :)**

 **jahoney: Thanks again for another great review! Totally get where you are coming from. Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**

 **AngelLove1728: Thanks for reading and the review! To answer your question, I'm planning on doing a sequel that takes us through the events of the movie. Obviously it will be a little AU since Jo will be there, but it won't deviate from the overall plot. I've had some request for an Owen POV story so I might publish a few chapters from this story, but from his perspective before that. Thoughts?**

 **angelicedg: Thanks! I really love writing those and I'm glad you like reading them. I liked how that chapter ended as well...good times.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey Hoskins, payback's a biotch!**

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I can be a glass half full kind of person when I need to be, so, since there wasn't too much positive happening in the tragedy that was today I choose to focus on the good news that resulted from the situation. Mainly, Simon being too traumatized by the cannibalistic dinosaur to pilot the helicopter back to headquarters. Thank god for small mercies. Once Simon re-emerged from his catatonic state he began to lobby for my involvement with the I-Rex.

"I need you to do this. You can be my eyes and ears," Simon said as we sat in his office.

"My eyes and ears aren't going to mean shit. I told you my recommendation, you need to kill that fucker," I told him bluntly. I know I told Owen I could do delicate, but that was before I watched a dinosaur go all Jeffrey Dahmer on its sister.

Simon shook his head vehemently, "I can't do that. What's done is done and we need to see how we can salvage the situation. At least think about it and let me know."

Sure, I'd get right on that.

Whether I was involved or not made very little difference from my vantage point. What was I supposed to do, take it for walks, paint its toenails, ask it nicely to not eat anyone?

I told Simon I'd let him know and made my way down to the shooting range in the basement. I was constantly amazed every time I found something else stashed away down here. It was like an adult Toys "R" Us.

I was the only one in the indoor gun range. I took my time loaded up the paper targets using the remote control to transport them downrange then put on my eye and ear protection picking up my Glock from the table. The only thing more relaxing for me than fighting was shooting. Most people probably did yoga or meditated, but my version of yoga involved wearing yoga pants while drinking.

I quickly unloaded a magazine of bullets into the target then reloaded, repeating the cycle as I mulled over Simon's offer to keep an eye on the I-Rex project. I forced myself to swallow down the bitter taste the idea left in my mouth. It was probably the best solution, all things considered. If he didn't plan on terminating the dinosaur my only real option was to be involved. I knew myself well enough to know I wouldn't be able to keep my nose out of other people's business when it came to this. I may as well accept a formal invitation to the party; that was easier than constantly sneaking around. I had to tell Owen about everything that occurred today, and let him know I'd be spending time with a bloodthirsty dinosaur in the future. I couldn't wait to have that conversation I thought removing my ear protection.

"I've never seen you look so peaceful."

What's a girl gotta do to get some alone time around here? Hoskins was like an STD, always popping up at the worst time.

I put my hands on my hips eyeing him critically. If this guy thought it was a good idea to corner me in a room full of loaded weapons he was too stupid to live.

"Is there something I can help you with Hoskins?"

He smiled walking towards me, "I thought it was time you and I had a conversation."

I raised my eyebrows at him in response. That made one of us.

"You seem confused about who is actually running things here. I would like to clear that up," he stated patronizingly. "See, Simon may own the company, but he's not in control. There are forces working behind the scenes you can't even begin to imagine."

"Like the dark side of the force?"

He frowned, "Joke all you want, I can have you removed anytime I like."

I flashed him a small smile, "Say for example, trying to feed me to the raptors?"

"How many times do you think it will take until you aren't able to pull a rabbit out of your hat?" he asked.

That was an excellent question. I tilted my head watching Hoskins. He may eventually succeed in feeding me to a dinosaur, but not before I ensured he got what was coming to him.

"You had better watch your step or you might not be the one who pays the price," he sneered, "It appears you and Owen are quite close these days."

Hoskins had made a lot of mistakes since I'd met him a short time ago. Threatening Owen was so far over the line I could hardly see it in the distance. Trying to kill me was one thing; threatening those close to me was suicidal.

It's a little known fact that about seven pounds of pressure will snap a collarbone, and the entire arm on the associated side will drop like a sack of potatoes, utterly useless. Plus, it hurts like hell.

I moved quickly using Hoskins surprise to my advantage. I placed my left hand under his chin wrenching his head backwards. He made a startled sound, reaching for my shoulders in an attempt to steady his balance. I moved quickly as his neck, collarbone, and chest were exposed. Closing my right hand into a fist I swung down delivering a vicious hammer fist strike that connected brutally with the left side of his collarbone. The bone snapped instantly with an audible crack, and I released Hoskins letting him fall to the ground. He crumpled against the wall, struggling to breathe through the pain as his left arm hung limp and awkward at his side.

I squatted down next to watching him hiss in pain. "Never assume the reason I'm peaceful is because I've forgotten how to be violent," I told him all traces of humor gone. "If Owen, or anyone else for that matter, so much as gets a paper cut you and I are going to have a real problem."

He glared at me unable to formulate a response through the haze of pain caused by his broken collarbone.

I stood up moving towards the exit, "Oh, I wouldn't bother trying to pull the camera feeds for in here. I heard they were malfunctioning. Kinda like what happened at the raptor paddock that day. Weird coincidence, huh?"

I left a fuming Hoskins in my wake as I took the elevator back to the main levels. He and InGen were becoming more of an issue with every passing day. Simon had no idea how bad the evil undercurrent within his company actually was.

I puttered around headquarters for the rest of the day attending meetings I didn't need to be at, pretending to check email so Claire would delay my execution, and killing time with Lowery. Around six o'clock I headed home dreading bringing Owen up-to-speed on today's events. He wasn't going to like the potential outcomes for either his girls or the I-Rex. I saw Owen outside on the porch grilling and bypassed my house. Whatever he was cooking beat the Lunchables in my fridge hands down.

Exiting my Jeep I made my way onto the porch just as Owen closed the lid to the grill obscuring my view of the tasty morsels.

"Any of that for me?" I asked hopefully.

His jaw tightened, "I got an interesting phone call today."

Oh crap.

"Really, about what?" I said trying to sound casual. Maybe instead of worrying about the raptors and the I-Rex I should have been worrying about Hoskins and his delicate bones.

"Seems Hoskins ended up at the clinic with a broken collarbone," he replied dryly. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

I leaned against the porch railing examining my nails with interest. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go home and eat my Lunchables.

"Um, I can neither confirm nor deny anything."

Owen ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, "This is your idea of delicate?"

"In my defense he pushed my buttons, and his bones are brittle," I said grimacing. I was reaching, but let's not forget the man had tried to kill me.

"What happened?" he asked.

I had to give Owen credit in the patience department. I wondered if it would hold through the night. He didn't even know the really bad stuff yet.

I walked over to a chair sitting down, "Just Hoskins being Hoskins. Threats, violence, intimidation. Normal day at the office."

I sat down in the chair letting my head fall back against the headrest, closing my eyes. Suddenly, I wasn't real hungry anymore. I just wanted to take a shower, and wash today's ickiness off me then promptly go to bed.

I heard Owen sit down on the coffee table in front of me. He placed his hands on my legs as they sat nestled between his, "You ok?"

"I'm fine. Hoskins on the other hand is going to need a few weeks before he's back in the saddle."

Owen laughed softly lightening the mood, "Well, at least it will never be boring. We're gonna have to work on your temper."

I gave him a half-smile. He had NO idea. I didn't think I had a temper. I thought I had a lightning fast reaction to bullshit.

"That's not even the best part," I told him. "I had a pretty interesting conversation with Simon."

Owen sobered instantly his focus entirely on me. I outlined my entire conversation in Simon's office. As expected, Owen did not take the intended outcome for the raptors well. The only thing that calmed him down was the fact Simon didn't see the project outcome having a very high probability of success. On this island, it's the little things that make all the difference sometimes. I just wondered how long funding for a program with no success would continue to roll in? Plus, Simon obviously lacked some operational control and that was a problem.

"What about the Indominus Rex?" he asked.

I scratched my head, "That's a little different story. We were right, they aren't purely theory. In fact, up until about six hours ago there were two."

I wonder if I looked as shocked as Owen when I saw the I-Rex's for the first time because he looked downright befuddled.

"You saw them? Up close and personal?"

"A little too personal," I uttered.

I told Owen everything I could remember about the I-Rex's appearance, behavior and stature. He peppered me with questions as we tried to make educated guesses regarding their genetic code. I had a ton of theories, but the only thing I was 100% sure of was it had some T-Rex in it. Everything else was purely speculation, and knowing the scientist could have used any genetic filler they wanted made it hard to narrow down the possibilities.

"Want to hear the part that will give you nightmares?" I asked him gearing up for the grand finale, "The bigger one ate the smaller one."

Owen just sat there, completely immobile on the coffee table. He had a faraway look on his face, and his eyes appeared glazed over. I waved my hand in front of his face checking for brain function.

"You ok?" I questioned.

"It ate the sibling?" he said dismayed. I shook my head yes and he stood up returning to the grill. I agreed it was troublesome behavior, and then some.

"Simon wants me involved," I told him. He was furiously turning the chicken over on the grill. I was no BBQ expert, but I was pretty sure you were supposed to turn it once then let the grill do its thing. Owen was flipping them like they were a Rubik's Cube he was trying to solve.

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him he's fucking crazy if he doesn't blow that thing up before it eats everyone on this island."

Owen looked at me like a man who 100% believed me. It was scary how fast he had come to terms with my admittedly outrageous personality. He may think I needed adult supervision most of the time, but he truly listened to what I had to say and made a conscious effort to see my point-of-view in most things. I felt like I could tell Owen in order to save the world we needed to buy a Duckbill Platypus, and he would give it some serious consideration. That's commitment people.

"I think it's probably a good idea. We need to know what's going on and that's easier if I have a seat at the table," I told him in all seriousness. I wanted no part of the I-Rex, but if they weren't going to kill it someone needed to play babysitter.

"Yeah," he said sounding resigned. "It's going to get a lot worse, you know that right?"

I nodded my head in agreement. It was bound to get to post-apocalyptic levels of bad before this played out, but fingers crossed I would get to feed Hoskins to a dinosaur before it was all said and done.

* * *

 **Frosty Autumn: Wow, where to begin? Thank you for reading, and for the insightful review. I'm over the moon you are enjoying the story, and appreciate all your constructive criticism. You're right...I want the story to be as good as possible so I will take your observations into consideration as I go forward. FYI, I'm planning a companion piece to this story that will feature Owen's POV for some of the more critical chapters. Hopefully this will shed some light on what Owen is thinking during all this. Plus, it will give a different perspective on Jo which could help solve some of the issues you pointed out. Thanks for reading/reviewing and hope you continue!**

 **Storylover00: Thanks again! Hope you liked this one as well :)**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Hello again :) Glad you enjoyed how the last chapter played out. Describing the I-Rex was tougher than I thought it would be b/c I wanted the reader to be horrified, and as it turn out, that's harder than it sounds. Hope you liked the newest chapter!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Great! I am so glad...I wanted that scene to make an impression. Thanks for reading!**

 **Twilighterheart xxxx: Why yes, as a matter of fact she will tell Owen :) Hope you liked how that played out...thanks for reading/reviewing!**

 **Lady-Finwe: Thanks so much for the compliment! It means a lot! Hope you enjoyed this installment and thanks for reading :)**

 **angelicedg: I thought Jo definitely needed to tell Owen...too big a secret to keep for any length of time. Plus, Owen would totally know she was holding back. Hope you liked this chapter. Thanks for reading!**

 **jahoney: Thanks for the great review! Glad you liked the chapter and have stuck with the story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter :)**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: :) I'm glad you enjoyed it...thanks for reading/reviewing!**

 **localsamurai: Thanks, I love Jo too :) Thanks for reading!**

 **AngelLove1728: I'm glad you are excited about the Owen POV story...me too! I have some ideas floating in my brain and if my kids corporate I might even be able to get some down on paper. LOL about Claire and Owen in the movie! I would gladly accept putting Jo in the movie...maybe she could make an appearance in the Jurassic World sequel? My schedules open :)**

 **BlueEyedPisces: Want to hear something funny, I have the hardest time remembering how to spell Pisces. Which is ironic considering I'm a Pisces. It's like that word is my archenemy or something. Anyways, I'm glad you love Jo's character so much. She's a handful, but adds a little spice to this explosion mixture. Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	28. Chapter 28

**Over 200 reviews...wow! Thanks, you guys rock!**

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As it turns out having a seat at the table wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Simon still knew next to nothing and seemed content to remain blissfully ignorant. Short of taking Dr. Wu hostage and forcing the truth of the I-Rex genetics from him I was out of options. Since Owen had forbid me from enacting any plan that involved mild forms of torture I spent time at the I-Rex paddock hoping to guess it on my own. Thus far I had been less than successful. This thing could be made out of unicorn DNA for all I knew.

I sat for hours in the observation area scribbling notes and hypothesis in my diary. Dr. Price would kill me if she knew I was using my diary for such sacrilege, but I thought the diary was giving its life for a good cause. Figuring out what the I-Rex was made out of presented better odds than me ever understanding my feelings.

It was late in the afternoon on a Friday, and the paddock was fairly busy with workers prepping a feeding. I stood up attempting to stretch my aching muscles after hours of sitting on the hard concrete floor. I dropped my diary on the floor as I walked towards the observation windows glancing at the closed circuit TV feed displayed on one of the monitors. I could see Nick, the paddock supervisor, outside organizing the workers at the site.

Feeding the I-Rex was a dangerous affair since there was no crane at paddock 11. I had told Simon repeatedly this was a disaster waiting to happen, and he assured me he would "look into the matter" just as soon as his billionaire ass came back to the island. With Jurassic World less than a few months from opening its doors to the public Simon and other top executives had been gone more and more. It made everything at the park move at a snails pace because getting approval from a man who was half a world away took time. On the plus side, Hoskins was one of the individuals currently not inhabiting the island on a regular basis so I made my peace with not being able to voice my displeasure with Simon face-to-face. It's the little things that make all the difference in this job.

Since there was no crane to drop in meals Nick decided the safest way to feed the I-Rex was by developing a seemingly random pattern of feeding times and locations. Paddock 11 had several exterior doors the crews could open for short intervals to insert the food then close quickly. Nick believed if they picked random doors, at random times, then they would be safe from the mutant dinosaur.

It took me two days to figure out Ellis, one of the paddock workers, was using the same pattern to feed the I-Rex. Sure, they picked somewhat different times, give or take an hour, but there was definitely a pattern. Either Nick was too lazy or too stupid to understand the pattern because nothing had changed. Plus, I was pretty sure Nick didn't believe the I-Rex was smart enough to figure it out. I disagreed, loudly. Hopefully, I was wrong. It's been known to happen from time to time.

Checking my watch I saw it was close to five o'clock and I decided to call it a day. Fingers crossed Owen would come through with his promise to make lasagna tonight. Just thinking about it got me all hot and bothered. Lately Owen had been attempting to teach me to cook in case I was ever released into the wild and forced to fend for myself, but so far it had resulted in multiple smoke alarm situations. I just took that to mean my cooking was so awesome even smoke alarms cheer me on, but Owen insisted it was a bad thing. Whatever, I stood by my position that cereal was an acceptable meal at all times of the day.

Now highly motivated, I moved to gather all my stuff, shoving it into my backpack and walking out the door. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the trees as I made my way down the metal staircase towards my Jeep. I heard the crew getting ready to open the door to insert the goat carcass as I placed my backpack in the backseat.

All at once the paddock erupted into chaos as shouts and screams filled the air. I whirled around narrowing my eyes onto the crew at the door of the paddock. My brain was having a difficult time processing what I was seeing, but my body responded instinctively.

I bolted toward the door. "Nick, close that gate! Now!" I yelled dropping to my knees beside the fallen worker. I pulled him away from the door with the help of two other men as Nick frantically typed away on the control panel. The door dropped with a bang just as the I-Rex collided with the steel door. The animal let loose an enraged shriek that made chills break out along my arms despite the heat.

I quickly surveyed the fallen paddock worker trying to figure out which of his injuries were life threatening. He was covered in so much blood I couldn't tell where any of it was coming from. His right arm was a mangled mess of torn flesh and muscle. It was ripped open straight down to the bone in some places exposing massive amounts of stringy sinew. The man was screaming more from shock than pain at the moment because I was fairly certain his pain receptors had completely turned off due to the trauma.

I grabbed my K-Bar from my boot and cut the man's shirt away from his right arm to get a better look at the damage. As soon as I removed the clothing one of the men beside me vomited.

"Hey! Pull your shit together or leave," I said, leveling him with a deadly stare. "We don't have time for that bullshit."

I looked back down and could hardly see the wound through all the blood. He'd severed his brachial artery. That was the only explanation for this much blood, this fast. I ripped my belt off as fast as I could wrapping it above the worst part of the wound where I thought the artery had been severed. I looped the belt through the buckle and pulled as hard as I could. The man scream and I closed my eyes against the onslaught of memories that flooded my mind threatening to immobilize me. Focus on the present Jo.

"What's your name?" I asked the man as I secured the belt.

"Enrique," he uttered weakly, his gaze unfocused on mine. I smiled at him brushing his hair off his forehead.

"You're going to be fine Enrique. I know it hurts right now, but we are going to get you some help," I told him. He nodded, closing his eyes, his breathing shallow and raspy. "Nick, we need to get him in the truck. We have to get him to the clinic."

Nick nodded his head and a group of men formed around Enrique as we worked together to pick him up and carry him to the truck. I jumped in first then helped the men maneuver Enrique into the bed of the truck.

"Get the bags out of the back of my Jeep. Bring them here and then we have to go," I told Nick.

In less than two minutes we were tearing across the jungle towards the medical clinic near headquarters. Man what I wouldn't give for Simon and his shitty helicopter flying skills right now. I dug through my bag until I found my comm unit quickly activating it and sticking it in my ear. I opened my medical bag digging for the arterial forceps. Enrique was still bleeding heavily despite the tourniquet, which meant if I couldn't find the severed artery and clamp it he would bleed out before we reached the clinic. The problem with finding the severed artery was there was so much blood I couldn't see anything; I could be clamping his artery or his nipple for all I knew.

I poured some saline solution over the shredded remains of his arm attempting to get a better view. We may be able to save Enrique's life, but he was losing his arm for sure. We hit a hole in the road and I slammed into the side of the truck.

"Jesus, we need some real fucking roads on this island," I said to no one as I noticed Enrique had finally passed out from pain or blood loss. "Shit."

I dialed the control room on my comm unit pouring more saline onto Enrique's arm desperately searching for the artery.

"Control Room this is Vivian."

"It's Jo, we have an incoming casualty with a partially amputated right arm. Brachial artery appears to be severed. Tourniquet has been in place for 10 minutes. We are approximately 20 minutes from the clinic. We need the trauma team standing by."

"Copy that Jo. Claire wants to know how it happened?" Vivian asked reluctantly.

"I was at paddock 11, take a wild guess. Be ready when we get there."

I ended the transmission and focused on Enrique. I had seen the severed artery, now I just needed to get a clamp on it, sooner rather than later. Pouring the last of my saline solution onto the wound I steadied my hand and moved quickly when I saw the artery barely protruding from the gaping hole in Enrique's arm. I clamped down on the end of it locking the arterial forceps and held my breath. When no new blood gushed out of his body for a few seconds I let out a slow breath sitting back slightly.

I looked up for the first time since getting in the bed of the truck and saw the outline of headquarters in the distance. The clinic was surrounded by the red and white of emergency vehicles, and throngs of people awaiting our arrival. I pressed two fingers to Enrique's neck looking for a pulse and found a slow, erratic one, but it was there. He had survived getting here, now I just had to hope the professionals could keep him alive.

When we stopped in front of the clinic the truck was immediately swarmed with emergency personnel. I was briefly asked some basic questions then discarded as Enrique was loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled away. I slowly climbed out of the truck grabbing my bags as my stomach rolled at the sight of the blood coating the back of the truck.

"Your Jeep is right over there," Nick said softly from behind me.

"You didn't need to follow us here. I could have picked it up tomorrow," I told him. I had no idea he was following us. Hell, I didn't even know who drove the truck now that I thought about it.

"It's the least I could do. You saved Enrique's life and if I'd listened to you in the first place he wouldn't have even gotten hurt."

Nick looked sickened by today's events. I wanted to offer him words of comfort, but I just couldn't find any. The truth was I didn't think this would be the last time the I-Rex hurt someone.

"Thanks Nick," I told him walking towards my Jeep. Just as I climbed into the drivers seat my phone rang. I sighed leaning my head back closing my eyes. Was it too much to ask to go home, eat homemade lasagna and stare at Owen? "King."

"Jo, it's Claire. I know you've been through a lot today, but can you come up to my office?"

No, I can't. I have a date with lasagna.

"Yeah, gimme a few minutes to get up there."

It didn't take long to get to Claire's office, but the stares I received along the way made me wish I'd just ignored her call and gone home to ogle Owen. I hadn't really noticed until now that my hands and clothes were covered in Enrique's blood. God, I was a disaster.

I kept my head down, not making eye contact with anyone as I passed the control room on the way to Claire's office. I really hoped Lowery wasn't working right now because I was pretty sure Owen had threatened bodily harm if he didn't report any Jo related incidents to him.

I didn't bother with the super secret knock at Claire's door opting to just walk in instead. I know the woman was a stickler for protocol, but I'd had a rough day. I wonder if Barry kept secret emergency sugar stashes all over the island or just at the raptor paddock because I could use a Twizzler right about now.

It didn't take long to notice Claire was not alone, and I suddenly had the urge to inflict bodily harm on someone. Mainly, the man standing beside her desk.

"Dr. Wu, I knew I felt a pain in my ass," I spit out.

He smiled like the poisonous snake I knew he was, "Ms. King, a pleasure, as always."

What an asshole.

"Jo, my god. Are you OK?" Claire asked jumping out of her seat heading straight for me. Her eyes were wide as she took in every inch of my blood stained appearance. It's easy to forget given Claire's tough as nails exterior that she's led a pretty sheltered life. Normal people go into a frenzy at the site of a person covered in blood, much like Claire was now. Funny how Dr. Wu seemed completely unfazed. I knew a psychopath when I saw one and Dr. Wu was a textbook psychopath.

"I'm fine. It's not mine," I assured her gesturing to the blood. "Enrique on the other hand is going to be down an arm if he manages to keep breathing." I directed the second part to Dr. Wu who looked bored, and not the least bit upset about today's incident.

"I'm glad you're OK. I'm so sorry about Enrique. That's why I called you here. I want to make sure nothing like this happens again," Claire said already back in control of her emotions. This woman was a machine. When I grew up, I wanted to be just like her. I made a silent vow to myself; tomorrow I was getting my shit together.

"Excellent. You can start by killing that thing," I told her my eyes never leaving Dr. Wu. His posture stiffened ever so slightly at the mention of killing his Frankenstein.

"Jo, I know how you feel about this, but that isn't an option at the moment. You know Mr. Masrani's position on the asset and that hasn't changed. I think right now we just need to reassess the security protocols at the paddock to ensure the safety of everyone involved," Claire stated calmly. This woman could sell ketchup popsicles to a man in white gloves. Too bad I wasn't buying.

"I don't think you get it Claire. That thing is not a dinosaur. It has higher-level deductive capabilities. It figured out a seemingly random pattern in order to carry out a coordinated strike on those workers. The only dinosaur even close to that level intellect is…." I trailed off having an 'aha moment'.

Velociraptors.

The only dinosaurs on record as having that kind of problem solving capabilities were Velociraptors.

Holy fucking shit.

I rounded on Dr. Wu grabbing him by the collar pushing him up against the wall. I expected him to recoil in fear, but instead his eyes narrowed in calculation. Good. I was really hoping he fought back.

"You're a fucking maniac," I whispered at him menacingly.

"Jo, let him go! What are you doing?" Claire asked, desperately trying to diffuse the situation.

"I don't know what you're talking about Ms. King," Dr. Wu stated calmly. The beads of sweat forming on his brow betrayed his cool exterior.

I heard Claire fumbling with her telephone asking for immediate assistance in her office. I leaned even closer to Dr. Wu, "Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You used raptor DNA and who know what else to make that thing. What the hell were you thinking?"

"It's called evolution."

Jesus, and people think I'm batshit crazy.

"You're done," I told him letting go of his shirt collar.

He sagged back against the wall adjusting his clothes, "We'll see." He smiled at me smugly as I turned and left a confused Claire in my wake.

This was worse than I had dreamed, and I can dream up some pretty fucked up shit. I couldn't tell Claire about the raptor DNA. Anyone who knew would be a target, and InGen didn't play by the rules. Claire was all but defenseless, and I refused to put her safety at risk. I needed to get home and talk with Owen then we could figure out what the hell we were going to do.

I debated calling him on the way home, but decided this type of bad news needed to be delivered face-to-face. It was after seven o'clock by the time I started the journey home on the winding jungle road. I probably should have showered at headquarters before going home considering I was covered in another person's blood. Owen was going to have a significant emotional event when he saw me. Maybe I could sneak a quick shower in at my place without him noticing. I rolled my eyes at the thought. That was about as likely as having a winning lottery ticket under my car seat.

I was mentally practicing my "calm down Owen it's not my blood speech" when something slammed into the passenger side of the Jeep with such force it sent my head colliding into the window with a sickening thwack. My vision narrowed and blackened as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. I heard the crunch of metal giving way as the door buckled under the pressure of whatever had hit me. I felt the Jeep spin 180 degrees and desperately craned the wheel in the opposite direction to stop the momentum. I couldn't see anything through the fog of pain in my head and the ringing in my ears.

Then I felt the bottom of my stomach drop like I had jumped out of an airplane as the Jeep tumbled over the side of the cliff edge. For a brief second the Jeep was motionless, suspended in midair, I sucked in a ragged breath bracing one hand on the roof over my head and the other on the window just before the Jeep plummeting down the edge of the cliff, my stomach climbing into my throat.

The Jeep rolled for what seemed like miles down the steep face, the metal from the Jeep buckling and crunching under the onslaught. Glass shards flew around the interior striking me in the face, arms and neck. I shut my eyes more out of fear then for any kind of protection, and I wished I could block out the sounds of the crash. The crunch of metal as we collided with rocks and trees tore the Jeep apart piece by piece. I felt something pierce the upper left side of my rib cage and sucked in a breath, a low moan of pain escaping. This was it. This was the end. I had survived a lot of things, but this would not be one of them.

Mercifully the deadly descent down the cliff finally ceased with an ear shattering bang. The Jeep came to a stop upside down on the partially concaved roof. I hung suspended in the seat as blood dripped down my face and fingers pelting the roof like raindrops. I made a halfhearted attempt to release the seat belt, but the buckle was stuck.

I wasn't really sure I could sell Owen on the 'don't worry it's not my blood' story anymore. I was somewhat surprised I was still alive, but could tell by the way my body was functioning I wasn't going to be for too long if I stayed like this. My breathing was coming in uneven pants, and I was scared I'd pass out before I could extricate myself from this seat belt.

I reach down for my boot attempting to grab my knife, but stopped when blinding pain shot through my left side. I screamed, leaning back against the seat closing my eyes as a wave of nausea rolled through me. I gingerly touched my left side looking down, and saw a jagged piece of metal sticking out just beneath my rib cage.

"Oh shit."

Without knowing the internal damage I couldn't risk pulling it out; it could do more harm than good. I'd just have to leave it there and hope it didn't exacerbate the injury when I fell out of the seat. Jesus, if it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all.

I decided to pull my leg up instead of bending down and was just able to reach the handle of my knife attached to my boot, tugging it free. It took me a few seconds to wipe the blood out of my eyes before I could see well enough to position the knife under the seat belt. It took another few seconds to work up the courage to cut the damn thing.

"Fuck it."

I cut the seat belt in one fast, swift motion. The knife shredded the belt with no trouble, and I dropped to the roof like a stone. White, hot pain tore through my body as my vision blackened to pin holes. My stomach revolted and I vomited causing another bout of agony to ripple through me. I slowly moved to lie on my right side to ease the pain radiating in my left. I needed to stay conscious if I had any hope of surviving this. If I passed out it could be hours or days before anyone found me, and I didn't have that kind of time.

I tried to find something else to focus on other than the pain or dying in the heap of crushed metal that use to be my Jeep. The only thing that broke through the fog was an image of Owen. Brave, kind, funny Owen. It didn't seem fair that I had just found him, and now it seemed I would lose him. I wanted to see him again, to talk to him. He would blame himself for this, and it would haunt him. Tears pricked at my eyes as I thought about him, and the pain I was feeling now had nothing to do with my physical injuries. I had to try to get help; I owed Owen that much.

I opened my eyes groaning as the pain intensified in my head. It was pitch black and I could barely see my hands in front of my face. I was sure the massive concussion wasn't helping either. Fumbling in the dark for anything I could use I felt something small and rectangle brush against my fingers. I pulled it towards me praying it would be my salvation. I clumsily handled my phone pressing the home screen hoping it still worked. The cracked screen lit up with a blinding light and I slammed my eyes shut in protest. Jesus, what was this thing powered by the surface of the sun? I cracked open my eyes pressing one on my speed dial and putting it on speakerphone. The phone rang loudly and I let my head drop down into a sticky puddle of what I assumed was blood.

"Hey, you almost here?" Owen answered distracted. He was probably making lasagna without a care in the world. Hearing his sultry voice made my eyes tear up again.

"No, I'm going to be a little late," I choked out.

All the commotion in the background at Owen's stopped the moment he heard my voice, "What's wrong?" I heard him yell to Barry in the background. I'd forgotten he was coming over tonight for dinner.

"Accident," I told him, struggling to form the words. I could feel myself fading as my vision narrowed and caused a vicious dizzy spell. I couldn't keep my eyes open without blood pouring in. I rubbed my sleeve across my face, accomplishing little with the action except creating more pain. I hissed and attempted to cradle my my broken wrist. Was there any part of my body that wasn't broken right now?

"Jo, talk to me. Do you know where you are?" Owen said urgently.

"Bottom of a cliff."

"Barry, do you have Lowery? Track her phone. Have him send it to my Jeep and tell him to contact Hamada," Owen shouted to Barry, his voice filled with authority. I heard Barry speaking urgently as Owen started the Jeep. "Jo, we're on our way. Hang on."

He was coming, that was good. If I didn't have a three foot piece of metal protruding from my body I'd be annoyed with this being the second time Owen might save my life. I was not the type of woman who needed a knight in shining armor, but right now I was willing to make a concession.

"Jo! Goddammit, talk to me!" Owen yelled into the phone. Had I not answered him?

"I'm here," I muttered weakly.

"Baby, please tell me what's going on." He sounded so terrified it broke my heart. I wanted to ease his worry and tell him I was going to be all right, but I had promised him I would never lie to him. There wasn't a lot I could offer Owen, but the truth was one of those things so I swore to always give it to him. I couldn't break that promise, even now.

"Owen…I'm…I'm not going to make it." I was crying now. Crying for how this would hurt Owen. Crying for everything that might have been.

"Yes you are. Do you hear me? I know where you are and we're almost there. Do you remember what I told you that night on the river?" he asked, leaving no room for argument. It was the same tone he used with the raptors. It made me smile. I could hear Barry in the background speaking in hushed tones with someone.

"I remember," I told him recalling the first time he'd saved my life. Truth was, Owen had done more than save my life since I'd met him. He'd saved my soul.

"I meant it. I'll always come for you Jo and I'm coming now so you have to hold up your end of the bargain, do you understand?" He was pleading with me now. I nodded along to his words even though he couldn't see me.

"Just in case…"

He cut me off with a firm voice, "No, none of that shit. I don't want to hear it like this. Save your deathbed confession for when we're 90."

Forgetting I was a human shish kabob I laughed, and promptly screamed in pain. Fucking Owen and his sense of humor. That man would literally be the death of me.

"Shit. Baby, I'm sorry. Fuck, Barry how far?" He was in an outright panic now. If I wasn't the cause of his freak out I would have liked to see a panicked Owen. It was such a departure from his normal cool as a cucumber demeanor that it was probably a real sight. Popcorn and candy worthy even. I'd have to ask Barry if I survived this.

I felt something warm and wet rushing down my body. I used the phone's light to look at the metal embedded in my rib cage, and saw a steady flow of gushing red blood. Well, fuck. This was not good.

"Owen, how far away are you?" I asked attempted to stem the blood flow with just my hands.

"Not far. Ten minutes, maybe. Why?"

This much blood in that area probably meant a ruptured spleen, which meant I'd probably be unconscious in 10 minutes from blood loss.

"I don't have 10 minutes," I told him honestly.

"Jo," he answered hesitantly.

"Listen, I think my spleen is ruptured. Even if it's not…there's too much blood. I…I can't focus anymore. Hit my head…concussion. Pretty bad, I think. Please don't blame yourself for this. You are the best…thing that ever…happened to me."

I closed my eyes trying to stop the flow of blood coming from too many places on my body. I heard Owen's voice in the background, but he sounded like he was under water. I wanted to reassure him, let him know he would get through this, but I couldn't move. I pictured Owen in my mind, all the time we'd spent together, and how happy it made me as I slipped away. I wanted his face to be the last thing I remembered in this life. I could feel his arms around my body, and his breath on my face as if he was right in front of me. I could almost hear his voice telling me he loved me as I slipped away into the void.

* * *

 **IdaRose89: Thanks for much for reading and reviewing. I'm glad you are enjoying the story and hope you stick with it :)  
**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: You're right the last one was kinda short. Hopefully this chapter makes up for that and then some. Let me know!**

 **jahoney: Thanks again for the review. Hope you liked this chapter as there is a lot going on that will propel everything forward, including into the sequel.**

 **BlueEyedPisces: I loved how bad Simon was at flying the helicopter in the movie. That is terrifying so I had to put it in...it made me smile. You're right, the I-Rex is the stuff of nightmares. Thanks for reading/reviewing!**

 **angelicedg: I loved doing that to Hoskins. I probably could have written a whole chapter of him must getting his ass handed to him...LOL! Thanks!**

 **god of all: Thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, it's a doozy.**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Yes, Hoskins deserves all he gets and then some :) Thanks again for reading and reviewing. Hope this one was to your liking!**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Thanks again, and hope you enjoyed!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Without further ado...**

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Cold.

Chaos.

Pain.

Odd things to feel and hear since I was dead, wasn't I? I'm not sure what I expected heaven to be like, but those things didn't fit in with my notion of the afterlife. For a split second I considered the possibility that I hadn't made it to the pearly gates, and I was in Hell. I wouldn't be surprised if I was, in fact, in Hell given some of my life choices, but all things considered I expected Hell to be a little hotter. Right now I wasn't hot at all. I was freezing. If I was stuck in some kind of shitty purgatory I was going to haunt everyone who ever pissed me off in retribution.

"Breathe, dammit!" someone yelled from above me. Their voice sounded strained, yet familiar. My mind was working painfully slow, and felt disjointed from my body.

Who wasn't breathing?

I felt incredible pressure slam into my chest and I coughed out a ragged breath in response. If I thought I was in pain before it was nothing compared to now.

"Jo…can you hear me? Baby, open your eyes. Please."

There was that voice again. It sounded so stricken and desperate I wanted to do anything in my power to ease their suffering. I tried to do what the voice asked and open my eyes, but my eyelids felt like 50-pound weights. I heard the voice begging me to not give up, to keep fighting.

Using willpower I didn't know I possessed I cracked my eyes open. The world seemed to be spinning at too great a speed because my vision was nothing but a blur. I saw a face swim into view above me and I blinked my eyes repeatedly trying to focus. I could see the person's lips moving, but couldn't make out their words. They seemed so familiar that I felt instantly better knowing they were with me. I could feel their hand wrapped around my own squeezing gently as they continued to talk. A hand brush down the side of my face intimately, and I pushed the pain aside wracking my brain to place the figure looming above me.

Then, like clouds parting on a rainy day, it came to me.

"Owen," I croaked out. My throat felt raw and damaged.

"I'm right here baby. Just hold on," he said giving my hand a squeeze while gazing down at me. I kept my eyes locked on Owen as he spoke to someone nearby. I didn't know what was happening and I didn't care, I just needed Owen here with me holding my hand.

Keeping my eyes open proved too big of a challenge. I was so tired that all I wanted to do was let sleep overtake me. It felt like every part of my body hurt except the hand Owen was holding. I focused on the feeling of his hand in mine as he rubbed soothing circles on the back of my hand. He was my lifeline, the only thing tethering me to this world.

Suddenly, I was lifted and my hand was ripped from Owen's. The agony in my chest reverberated all over my body causing me to call out. Bile bubbled up in my throat and I felt my body dry heaving of its own volition. My breathing was coming in short, raspy pants that were excruciating. I didn't know how I ended up in this much pain, but I just wanted it to stop.

"Owen," I choked out blindly reaching for him, but I think I only managed a pathetic twitch of my fingers. I felt tears spill out running unchecked down my face. If I wasn't sitting on the precipice between life and death I'd be embarrassed about crying out for someone, but I couldn't muster the energy to care.

I felt someone grab my hand. "I'm here Jo. You're on your way to the hospital," Owen told me. His calm, reassuring words washed over me lessening my anxiety.

"Please...don't…leave."

"I'll never leave you Jo. I can't…I can't say goodbye to you because I simply can't live without you. Do you hear me? I love you, so you have to make it through this. Do you understand? You have to fight. You have to live," Owen whispered to me lightly touching his lips to mine.

I held onto his words trying to keep them in the forefront of my mind. He was here, he wasn't leaving, and he loved me. Probably because I was experiencing yet another near death experience the thought didn't terrify me like it normally did.

I focused on the sound of Owen's voice and the feel of his hand in mine as I faded back into nothingness.

X X X X

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The incessant sound of medical equipment combined with the smell of antiseptic greeted me when I regained consciousness. I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to clear my vision, and found I was in a sterile, white hospital room at the emergency clinic. I had about six different wires and tubes attached to various parts of my body, my wrist was heavily bandaged, and the left side of my chest felt like I'd been run over by a Mack Truck.

I wiggled my fingers and toes experimentally and was relieved to find them in working order, if not somewhat painful. In my experience, pain anywhere was better than nothing. Some of the cuts and bruises on my arms looked slightly healed, and I wondered how long I'd been here. The dark room and moonlight filtering in through the window told me it was nighttime. There were a couple of vases with slightly wilted flowers sitting on the table next to the bed on my right. I could just make out Claire's impeccable handwriting on one of the cards. I would bet my salary the oversized teddy bear sitting in the corner was Lowery's doing, and the basket containing an assortment of candy was from Barry.

Licking my lips, I turned my head to the left and stilled. Owen's massive frame was crumpled into a tiny hospital chair with his legs propped up on the end of my bed. His clothes looked rumpled, like he'd slept in them for days, his hair was a wild mess shooting out in all directions as if he'd been running his hands through it, and there was at least a few days' worth of stubble on his handsome face. The deep lines on his forehead betrayed his restful state. Only Owen could worry in his sleep.

"Owen," I tried to say, but my voice cracked with disuse. I sounded like a dying frog and tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry as a bone. Owen reacted as though I had shouted through a bullhorn, flying out of the seat and reaching me so quickly I had a hard time tracking his movements. Either he'd acquired superhuman speed while I'd been taking an extended siesta or I was on some serious drugs.

He stood next to my hospital bed staring down at me like he was afraid I'd disappear. I tried smiling, but I felt my lips crack they were so dry. Owen immediately moved to the end of the bed filling a small cup with water. He placed a straw in the cup bringing it to my lips so I could drink. It was the best thing I had ever tasted, and I drank like a dying man in a desert, greedily sucking down the ice-cold beverage.

"Easy. Go slow," Owen told me pulling the straw back, smiling slightly. I nodded at him as he took the cup away, placing it back on the tray.

"You look like shit," I told him weakly, taking in his disheveled appearance. Owen's booming laugh filled the hospital room and my heart.

"Yeah, well, you aren't looking too hot yourself hero," he responded smiling bright. I returned his smile, reaching up to grab his shirt. I needed physical contact with him, and he seemed to need it too.

He leaned forward kissing me softly, "You scared me to death."

I tried to pull him closer, attempting to sit up, and felt a stabbing pain radiate throughout my left side. Gasping in agony I fell back against the bed closing my eyes against the ache in my chest. Well, that was certainly a mood killer.

"I'm going to get the doctor," Owen said urgently.

"Wait," I panted, breathing through the pain. "Please, wait just one minute."

"Jo, you need to see the doctor."

"I know…I just…I need to know what happened first and I don't want to hear it from a stranger."

Owen froze beside me his eyebrows scrunching in thought, "You don't remember?"

I looked up at him trying to think about the last thing I remembered.

"I was at the I-Rex paddock," I told him, my voice shaking slightly. He nodded in agreement his eyes urging me to continue. "I was watching…taking notes again, I think."

"Do you remember anything else?"

The tone of his voice told me I was missing quite a lot, but the harder I thought about it the further away the memories felt. I couldn't actually remember being at the I-Rex paddock that day, but since I was either there or at Owen's these days it seemed like the logical conclusion.

"No. I…I can't remember," I confessed. The frustration of not knowing what happened made my eyes fill with unshed tears.

"Shhh, hey, it's OK," Owen said soothingly, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

I swiped the tears away with my uninjured arm closing my eyes, "How long have I been here?"

"Five days."

My eyes flew open finding Owen's. Five days! I'd been unconscious in the hospital for five days. What the hell happened to me? I was on the verge of losing my shit. Someone needed to start talking. The machines in the room starting beeping faster and faster as my heart rate accelerated.

"Jo, you have to calm down. I'll tell you everything, but I need you to keep it together," Owen told me smoothing the hair out of my face.

My eyes locked onto his and I swear I was holding his hand hard enough to break bones. I felt myself breathing in and out in time with Owen as he steadily whispered to me. When I finally calmed down enough Owen proceeded with the whole story.

"Five days ago you were at the I-Rex paddock like normal. You were getting ready to leave for the day when one of the paddock workers was attacked and injured by the I-Rex. He was hurt pretty bad, but you saved his life by clamping the artery in his arm stopping the blood loss," Owen told me calmly searching my face for any recollection.

I delved into my mind for any memory of the actions he had just described and came up empty. I remembered none of what he said, and it was seriously freaking me out. The I-Rex had hurt someone? I was there when it happened? Is that how I ended up in the hospital? What happened to me?

"But…what…how did I end up here?" I stuttered, my panic level rising. I had so many questions I didn't know where to start.

Owen's gaze softened and he scooted closer to me on the bed, "Baby, it's going to be OK. Do you trust me?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat nodding. Owen brought my hand to his lips kissing my knuckles. It felt like he was apologizing for what he was about to tell me.

"After you got Enrique to the clinic Claire called you to her office. She wanted to get the full story so she could brief Mr. Masrani. She had Dr. Wu in her office when you arrived," Owen said the last part quietly, watching me for any reaction. "She said the two of you had a disagreement, but she didn't know exactly what it was about. You left right after that and on your way home someone hit your car knocking you off the side of a cliff."

When Owen finished I just stared at him as he looked at me expectantly. It was like he thought he could will me to remember something, but there was nothing there.

"Do you remember arguing with Dr. Wu?" Owen asked softly.

I dropped my eyes from him, fixing them on our joined hands, "No."

Dr. Wu and my disdain for each other was legendary so the possibilities were endless for why we could have been arguing. Obviously it had something to do with the I-Rex, but the details eluded me. Dr. Wu pushed my buttons like no other. His smug, reckless disregard for ethical behavior made me want to knock out his front teeth on the regular. I didn't judge people based on race, religion, ability or gender. I based it on whether or not they're an asshole, and Dr. Wu was a First Class Asshole.

"My accident wasn't really an accident, was it?" I asked not making eye contact.

"No, probably not," Owen responded grinding his teeth. I could tell the idea of someone launching me off a cliff made him homicidal. Well, he could get in line on that one. The big question was who wanted me dead the most?

"Any ideas?" I had a few, thousand.

Owen laughed, "Oh, we've batted around some definite possibilities. The problem is the list is a little too long to be of any use. As it turns out you have a tendency to rub people the wrong way."

I gave him my best 'I'm not impressed' face, but truth was he was right. I have a hard time being nice to people I'd rather throw a brick at instead. I tried to be good, but as it turns out I get bored pretty easily. Whatever, I refused to water myself down just because other people couldn't handle my awesomeness at 100%.

"Anyways," I said dryly. Figuring out the who or why behind this whole tragedy could come later. "What's the damage?" I asked him gesturing to my body.

Owen stiffened, instantly sobering. I could tell I wasn't going to like what he told me next.

"You have a Grade 2 concussion, broken wrist, some bruised ribs, sprained knee, and more bruises and cuts than I can remember," he said drawing in a deep breath, "The worst of your injuries was your spleen. It was ruptured and you needed emergency surgery. They were able to repair it, but it was touch and go for a while. You needed a blood transfusion and they thought it was best to keep you in a medically induced coma for a few days to let some of the swelling in your brain subside."

Yeah, that sounded like a pretty shitty day.

"So, not too bad all things considered," I said trying to lighten the mood. It didn't work.

"No, it's very bad. When I found the Jeep at the bottom of that cliff you weren't breathing. I had to do CPR on you for three minutes before you started again. Three minutes! Do you have any idea what it's like to think the woman you love is dead and there might be nothing you can do about it?!"

By the time he was done his breathing was coming in shallow pants and he looked like he was reliving a nightmare. I didn't know what to say. I knew what it was like to watch people die, but I'd never been in love with anyone before so I'd never experienced the kind of loss Owen was referencing.

Slowly, I pulled Owen towards me until our foreheads were resting against each other. I closed my eyes breathing in his unique, masculine scent. His hands came up to cradle my face as he tipped my head back slightly pressing his lips firmly against mine. The kiss started out slow, almost timid, as if we were both asking for permission from the other. His tongue slid along my lower lip and I couldn't stop a moan from slipping out. This spurred Owen to action as the kiss took on a fierce kind of possession as he nipped at my lips. My hand slipped behind his neck as I pulled him closer to me since I was unable to move. I'm wasn't sure why I was spared death at the bottom of that cliff, but I wasn't going to take anything for granted, especially when it came to our relationship. Owen was practically on top of me when I heard a not so subtle throat clearing from the door.

"Guess this explains why your heart rate and blood pressure are through the roof."

Owen and I stilled, looking at each other trying not to laugh. It seemed not even life threatening injuries could keep us from mauling each other like teenagers. He lightly kissed my forehead before standing up and turning towards the doctor with as much dignity as he could muster. Since I was currently sporting a backless hospital gown I figured I didn't need to worry too much about dignity.

The doctor was a tall, thin man with broad shoulders and a pronounced forehead. A long white coat covered his green scrubs, and a stethoscope hung haphazardly around his neck. The skin under his eyes looked almost purple with sleep deprivation. This guy was in needed of a nap and Starbucks; I wasn't sure in what order.

"Sorry, pain medication lowers my inhibitions," I told the doctor. Well, that and Owen was too good looking to leave unmolested. Owen choked on a laugh beside me as the doctor just shook his head coming to stand on the other side of the bed.

"I'm Dr. Kondrat, the attending surgeon here, can you tell me how you feel? Besides horny." he asked using the stethoscope to listen to my heart while looking at each of the monitors I was currently hooked up to.

I ignored the last part of his statement. No good would come from going down that road.

"Um, pretty good considering. My pain is manageable right now."

"She can't remember anything leading up to the accident," Owen supplemented for the doctor.

I cut my eyes towards him, but he looked completely unfazed by my death glare. Traitor.

"Temporary amnesia isn't uncommon with the type of head injury you sustained," Dr. Kondrat said finishing up my cursory examination, "It's possible, with time, you will be able to remember what happened."

"Possible?" I asked skeptically.

Dr. Kondrat took a deep breath before continuing. "Your body underwent an incredible trauma. You were found not breathing and unresponsive at the scene, and coded twice on the table during the surgery to repair your spleen. That is not something to be taken lightly Ms. King. You are very lucky to be alive, and there is a real possibility you won't ever remember the events leading up to the accident."

Wow, don't hold back on my account doc.

"So, I technically died three times?" That was a lot to take in. Owen's hand found mine and he gave me a reassuring squeeze. I licked my lips trying and failing to process the fact I had been dead a couple of times over the last few days.

"Yes, but despite that I expect you to make a full recovery. It will take some time for all your injuries to heal completely, but once they do you should be as good as new," he said filling out the chart on the end of the bed.

Unfortunately for me my time with Dr. Kondrat was just beginning. He called a nurse into the room and between the two of them I was poked, prodded and stabbed so many times I was starting to go a little psycho. When Dr. Kondrat shoved a pen light into my eyes I had to fight back a wave of nausea that rose to the surface. It felt like someone had shoved a red-hot poker into my head and stirred my brain around a few times. When I attempted to strangle him with his stethoscope in retaliation Owen stepped in to restrain me.

Phase two of this torture parade was Dr. Kondrat calling out a series of rapid-fire questions in an attempt to ascertain the extent of my amnesia. I felt like I was on an episode of 'Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader'. I hated to break it to the good doctor, but I didn't know what the square root of 121 was before I fell off a cliff and died three times. Inability to do math aside, I could remember everything from what year it was, to what I had been doing in the days leading up to the accident, but as soon as his questions zeroed in on the day of the accident it was like my mind hit a brick wall. It wasn't that I couldn't remember what happened. It was like there was nothing there _to remember_.

"Ok, I think that's enough for now," Dr. Kondrat remarked after another failed attempt to jog my memory, "As I said, your memory could return with time or you may never be able to recall that day in any detail. Don't push yourself."

This guy really knew nothing about me if he thought that advice was going to fly. Since I was exhausted, in pain, and really didn't want to talk to him anymore, I stayed quite. Sometimes silence is better than bullshit.

"When can I get out of here?" I asked him closing my eyes. I knew myself, and now that I was awake I had two days tops before I went batshit crazy from being here.

"Let's just see how you do before we talk about discharge. I still need to run some tests and make sure they all come back clean."

"So…one, maybe two days?" I heard Owen sigh beside me. Probably he wished I were still unconscious right about now.

"Simon was right, you really should come with a warning label," Dr. Kondrat remarked walking towards the door, "I'll see you in the morning. Try to get some rest."

He left without another word, my mouth hanging open in shock at his statement as Owen chuckled beside me. Sure, Simon had a pretty solid foundation for his opinion, but still, what a little shit.

"Do you think I'm a pain in the ass?" I asked Owen, silently daring him to answer with my eyes.

"No, I think you're crazy, not a pain in the ass," he replied giving me his 100-watt smile.

"I'm not crazy. I'm a limited edition," I huffed at him.

Owen leaned forward kissing me softly before sitting back down in his chair, "Yes you are Josephine and that's why I love you. Now get some sleep. We'll figure out the jail break tomorrow."

My eyes closed as the pain medication took hold, and I slipped back into oblivion, Owen's hand firmly in mine.

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 **Rachel: Thanks so much for the review and for reading. I'm glad you like the story (and the intensity:) Hope you liked this chapter!  
**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: Awesome! Glad you liked it...there was a lot going on for sure. Thanks for reading :)**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: You OK? :) Hopefully this chapter helped some. Thanks for reading!**

 **jahoney: Thanks for the review and I will definitely take your advice into consideration as I continue. I'm glad the accident was somewhat unexpected. Hope you enjoyed the aftermath.**

 **Timeladytennant: YYYYEEEESSS! LOL! Thanks for reading and reviewing...hope this was to your liking.**

 **angleicedg: You are correct, that was no accident. Now we get to see the gang in the aftermath and recovery. Don't worry...all will work itself out in the end. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!**

 **Mystery Guest: Hope your still reading and like the update. Thanks for the review!**

 **19irene96: Hopefully this was soon enough for you and you like how it all went down. Thanks for reading!**

 **BlueEyedPisces: I'm with you...Dr. Wu sucks! I'm sure he'll get his in the end. If not, I'll just make sure it happens here :)**

 **MsRose91: I hope you meant "bad way to leave a chapter" in a good way:) Thanks for reading/reviewing, and hopefully you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **twifan1987: I know, right! It was a lot to write too. Hope you are enjoying how it is all playing out.**

 **god of all: Thanks! Hope you are still reading and like the chapter!**


	30. Chapter 30

**The Grand Finale...**

* * *

Two weeks.

I had been awake and imprisoned in the clinic for two full weeks undergoing every test known to man, but today I was being released.

Whether the doctor agreed to it or not.

"Can you double check the bathroom and make sure everything is out?" I asked Owen as I stuffed my clothes into a bag as best I could with only one hand, "After that we can start taking all these flowers and cards out to your car."

"Jo, the doctor said it was possible you would be released today," he told me gently. It did not escape my attention that he had retreated to the opposite side of the room first. "Possible doesn't necessarily mean it's going to happen."

My hands stilled and I slowly raised my eyes. I've always had an uncanny ability to communicate using just facial expressions, and right now I was letting Owen know I was one step away from losing my shit in a big way. He took another involuntary step back.

"I'm leaving. Today. I don't care what Dr. Uptight says. You can help or you can leave."

"You're looking a little crazy babe."

That was probably because I was crazy, and while Owen may have thought he'd reached the bottom of my craziness he was now discovering there was also an underground garage stocked full of even more crazy.

"Owen, I'm fine. All my tests have come back normal," I told him resuming my clumsy packing.

I heard him sigh in response, "Except for having absolutely no memory prior to the accident."

Right. Except for that one, minor detail.

"I may never remember. I just need to accept it and move on. I can do that at home."

He gave me a look that clearly conveyed he didn't believe in my new found coping skills. He was right, not that I'd ever tell him though. I was 100% not OK with the hole in my memory and the fact that I had no way of figuring out why someone had tried to kill me. Again.

Claire had filled in some of the blind spots when she stopped by for a visit yesterday. I cringed recalling her explain how I flew into what she described as a "fit of rage" that culminated with me pinning Dr. Wu against a wall. I'm pretty self-aware and understand that I may, from time to time, have anger management issues, but I wouldn't choke slam someone without a really good reason. Most of the time anyway.

I knew the key to my untethered descent down a cliff had something to do with Dr. Wu, but had no idea why. It could just be as simple as hatred because, let's be honest, Dr. Wu hated me almost as much as I hated him, but he seemed like too much of a pussy to push me of cliff. And if he did, why now? Owen was quick to point out my list of enemies was not lacking so there was no way to decisively say Dr. Wu was behind the accident, but somehow I just _knew_ it had something to do with him. More specifically, whatever transpired that night in Claire's office. Too bad I couldn't prove anything because I couldn't remember anything.

"Hey, are you OK?" Owen asked, sitting down beside me on the bed. He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear gazing at me questioningly.

I smiled at him pulling him forward by his shirt. I brushed my lips against his tenderly before saying, "I'm fine. I just…I can't stay here any longer. I want things to get back to normal or at least normal for me. If I don't get out of this room soon I'm going to lose it."

"I'm going to take some of this stuff out to the car. I'll see if I can find the doc," Owen said as he rested his forehead against mine, "Please try to stay put and not cause trouble until I get back."

"And here I was about to comment on how sweet you are, but then you go and ruin it."

He shot me a cocky grin over his shoulder as he got up, grabbing a couple vases on his way out the door. I felt my heart rate increase and did my best to look unfazed…it didn't work. Stupid, sexy raptor trainer.

Twenty minutes later Owen came back with Dr. Uptight hot on his heels looking none too pleased. Yeah, well, that made two of us doc.

"I don't like ultimatums Ms. King," the doctor huffed, not bothering to even look at me as he filled out paperwork. Moi? Ultimatums? Never. "But, I don't like having you as a patient more, and I have no desire to see you sneak out through the window so you are officially being discharged."

I shot Owen a dirty look. The window escape plan was supposed to be a secret. Traitor. He was casually leaning against the wall not looking surprised by the doctor's discharge orders; it did not escape my attention that he ignored my death glare completely.

"Thanks for everything. It's been a real hoot," I said dismissively as I attempted to sit up. I felt pain radiate as my stitches pulled, and I hissed out a sharp breath. Owen immediately moved to my side helping me sit up, a troubled look causing his brow to furrow.

Dr. Uptight sighed, again. "Ms. King, I'm probably wasting my time, but I'm going to say it anyway. It is against my better judgment that you are discharged today. You sustained severe, life threatening injuries, not to mention your chronic memory loss. Your road to recovery will be a long and hard one." Jeez, don't sugar coat it or anything on my account doc. "That being said, your tests have come back promising and you have shown a resiliency that I have not personally come across in my medical career. You are a survivor Ms. King and that is admirable. I have no doubt you will make a full recovery. I put in an order for your medication, which you can pick up on your way out. I've given Mr. Grady the contact information for your physical therapist, as well as the appointment slip for our follow up visit in a few weeks. Feel free to call my office if anything comes up. Any questions?"

Dr. Uptight was clearly wearing a look that said "please ask yourself if this is textable before calling me for any reason". Just when I thought the man might be warming up to me.

I nodded my understanding as he handed my discharge paperwork to Owen and excused himself from the room with a curt nod. That guy was one tough cookie, and Simon thought I should come with a warning label.

After only 20 minutes, and one profanity laced argument with a nurse regarding me and a wheelchair, I was released back into the wild, or rather I was released into the care of my boyfriend under strict instructions for my continued care, and more medication than was probably legal for one person to have on them. Unless, of course, their intent was to distribute.

I sat uncomfortably in the passenger seat of Owen's Jeep as he loaded the last of my belongings and climbed behind the wheel.

"You ready?" he asked, grabbing my hand and kissing my knuckles softly.

"Yep. Let's blow this popsicle stand."

Owen's lips twitched as he fought a smile pulling out of the clinic parking lot as we headed home. I laid my head back against the seat savoring the feel of the sun on my face and the wind whipping through the Jeep. I took a deep breath, the familiar scent of salty sea air making me smile. Even though I was leaving the hospital after yet another near death experience, or in this case a couple of real death experiences, I'd never really felt better. I was content, happy even. I felt Owen squeeze my hand and I looked at him smiling.

"You good?"

"Never better," I told him. He flashed me his 100-watt grin, and I felt the butterflies in my stomach take flight. Jeez Louise, this man was gorgeous. I know Dr. Uptight said no hanky panky for a few weeks, but clearly he hadn't taken a good enough look at Owen when dispensing those instructions. I wasn't positive I could keep my hands to myself for the remainder of this car ride much less a few weeks.

"Jo, if you keep looking at me like that I'm going to have to show you exactly how creative I can be in a pinch."

Gulp.

"Promises, promises," I sing-songed back at him fighting a laugh. Truth be told, I was very interested in Owen's creative tendencies. Far be it from me to keep that kind of genius under wraps.

"As much as I would love to give every inch of your body the attention it deserves you are in no way physically ready, and even if you were we'd be late."

Late? Late for what?

Before I could begin the interrogation I felt the Jeep slow to a stop at the beginning of the dirt road that led to our houses. I'm sure my face displayed my extreme confusion at the scene before me. There had to be at least 30 cars littered around Owen's bungalow with people spread from his porch all the way to the beach.

"What's going on? Did I miss a memo or something? Are you in trouble?" I asked Owen.

Owen smiled slightly, "I'm not in trouble. It's a party. A party for you if you want to get specific."

My eyes snapped to Owen, silently asking him what the fuck he was talking about.

"A party," I said, hesitantly rolling the idea around in my mind.

"Yes."

"For me?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Owen shifted in his seat, and it suddenly hit me. Owen was nervous. I'd never seen Owen nervous. Hell, I bet no one had ever seen Owen nervous. It was like witnessing a rare lunar eclipse or meeting a leprechaun, it just didn't happen.

"Well, it's kind of a two-fold, it's a welcome home we're glad you're OK party, but that part was added at the last minute after the accident," he said, his eyes darting around the Jeep looking anywhere but at me.

"And the other part?" I didn't get his nervous energy. Sure, a 'welcome home we're glad you didn't die in a fiery crash when you fell off a cliff' is kind of a downer theme, but there was probably liquor at the party, which evened out the scales in my book.

"It's for your birthday."

I blinked, staring at him, shocked into silence.

"Today's my birthday?" I asked him quietly.

"Yes, it is," Owen said softly, shifting closer to me.

"How…how did you know?" I didn't even know today was my birthday.

Owen lips twitched up in a sexy smirk, "I have my ways."

Apparently. I looked back towards Owen's bungalow overwhelmed by a multitude of emotions. My birthday, along with every other holiday, had never been a big deal. No one had ever cared enough to even acknowledge it much less throw me a surprise party.

Mistaking my silence as reluctance Owen cleared his throat, "Listen, if you aren't feeling up to it I'm sure everyone will understand. When I planned all this I wasn't anticipating bringing you home from the hospital."

I turned towards him, my eyes softening. "No, I don't want you to do that. I'm not upset about the party, it's great. I just…"

"What? You can tell me anything, you know that."

I dropped my eyes from Owen, licking my lips nervously. "I've never had one before."

"Never had what?" Owen asked quizzically.

"A birthday party."

Man, it sounded so pathetic out loud. What kind of person had never had a birthday party? As a child, it was never a day anyone felt the need to remember, much less celebrate, and once I got older I was so use to it being just another day there were years even I forgot about it.

"You've never had a birthday party?" Owen asked and I shook my head. He leaned forward kissing me softly. "I'm glad I could change that. Come on, we wouldn't want the guest of honor to be late to her own party."

I smiled softly as Owen headed towards his bungalow and the throng of people. The closer we got the more my stomach twisted in knots. As Owen parked the Jeep and made his way around to help me out I realized I was nervous. Or maybe I was excited. Either way, I was standing on a precipice of emotions I rarely, if ever, engaged, and I wasn't too sure what to do next. Turns out getting out of the Jeep was more complicated and painful than I anticipated so by the time I had accomplished it I was no longer nervous. Instead I was panting, tired and fighting a losing battle to stay upright.

"This wasn't a good idea. I'm going to get rid of everyone and let you rest," Owen said as he stood at my side, his arm wrapped around my waist careful, supporting my weight.

"No, please don't. I'll be fine if I can just sit down," I told him honestly. "Plus, I swear I saw some of Marco's trashcan punch over there. If I can get a few cups of that liquid gold I'll be set in no time."

Owen rolled his eyes and it looked so ridiculous coming from him I couldn't help but laugh. I was so rubbing off on him.

"Fine, but try not to overdo it," Owen whispered against my ear just as Barry and Lowery made their way towards us.

"I pinky promise," I told him, holding up my only available pinky finger. Having a cast was so 1999.

"I can't believe I'm doing this in public," Owen muttered as he wrapped his pinky finger around mine. If you really want me to do something the only way to ensure it happened was a cosmically binding pinky promise. All other forms of coercion I mostly ignored.

"Did you just pinky promise?" Lowery asked Owen, the astonishment clear in his tone.

Owen scowled in response as Barry and I fought a losing battle with laughing. Lowery quickly averted his eyes, his face doing a pretty accurate impression of a cherry tomato.

I nudged Owen lightly with my elbow, "Be nice."

"Jo, welcome home," Barry stated, stepping forward to embrace me. He chastely kissed my cheek murmuring, "You scared me to death. I'm thankful you are alright."

"Thank you Barry. I know what you and Owen went through to get to me and keep me alive. I owe you both my life," I replied, my eyes filling with tears.

Owen had told me bits and pieces about the night I went sky diving off a cliff without a parachute while in a car, but I knew he was still withholding details. I didn't blame him. I can't imagine what it had been like when the two of them finally found me covered in blood and technically dead. I suppressed an involuntary shutter pushing my thoughts away. Mercifully, Barry pretended not to see me struggling and I pretended not to see the faraway look in his eye so we could both avoid a miserably awkward conversation no one wanted to have.

"Hey Lowery, thanks for coming," I told him as Barry stepped to the side.

"Happy Birthday Jo," Lowery said, pulling me into my second awkward hug of the afternoon. Man, I hope this trend didn't continue. "You look much better."

"Thanks, I really appreciate you guys coming."

With Owen's help I was able to, slowly, make my way over to a comfortable looking wicker loveseat conveniently located near all the food. Owen wasn't really a wicker furniture kind of guy, but the smart money said Zara was directly involved. I had caught a quick glimpse of her fluttering around, and had no doubt Owen had enlisted her help to pull this off. Smart man.

Owen gently lowered me into the seat, and I let out a sigh of relief. I may have only walked about 15 feet, but it felt like miles. Once seated, Owen was immediately pushed back by a crowd of people who enthusiastically wished me a Happy Birthday, and tried to find a graceful way to tell me they were glad I wasn't dead. I didn't envy them that task. I'm not sure Hallmark makes a 'congratulations on not kicking the bucket' card.

I was amazed at all the people who had given up their free time to be here. Paddock workers, control room technicians, staff from the local restaurants and stores, and pretty much the entire security force. I silently wondered who was running the park right now because it felt like everyone on the island was outside Owen's bungalow. I even saw Simon standing off to the side talking with Claire.

It was too much seeing Simon standing there in a pricey Italian suit holding a Solo cup full of trashcan punch while Claire attempted to swat away the bugs dive bombing her hair. The two of them looked about as comfortable as a whore in church, but damn if I didn't feel giddy they had come.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur filled with great conversation and even better food. Owen had fired up his grill, and along with Barry's help, was cranking out everything from burgers to ribs. If his job as a raptor trainer fell through that man could make a living selling his BBQ recipe.

The only downer was Owen's staunch refusal to hand over any of Marco's trashcan punch. Since I'm nothing, if not resourceful, I had Lowery sneak me a cup when I thought Owen wasn't watching. Before I could even take my first luscious sip a very unhappy Owen swiped the cup from my hand, and replaced it with a bottle of water. I mean, sure, mixing prescription medication with 20 different kinds of liquor was probably not advisable, but why not ride this bus till the wheels fell off? Besides, I'd already died a handful of times in the past few weeks so it was highly unlikely a little alcohol and pharmaceutical mixing would be my downfall. Owen disagreed, vehemently; pointing out my idea of responsible drinking was not spilling my beer. He had a valid point and I abandoned my crusade for trashcan punch, opting instead to just enjoy what was a spectacular day.

The sun was setting, dipping just below the crest of the palm trees that littering the sandy, white beach. There was an orange hue cascading across the ocean creating an ethereal effect. Over the course of the afternoon the gathering had dwindled in line with the setting sun leaving just Owen, Barry, Hamada, Lowery and me relaxing on the porch.

"Thanks for the party guys. It was really great," I told the group.

Hamada reached under his chair pulling out a hastily wrapped present handing it to me. My eyes darted between Hamada and the present slightly bewildered.

"It's not a birthday party without presents," Hamada stated plainly. For the second time today I fought back tears. Jeez, I really hoped this crying thing didn't become a habit. Needless to say no one had ever given me a present.

"I…you didn't need to do that," I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady.

"I know. I wanted to."

I felt Owen's hand squeeze my shoulder in support as I tentatively reached out to take the gift. He was the only one who knew I'd never had a birthday party, much less, a present. I methodically unwrapped the paper, savoring the feeling of glee that washed over me. When I was done I sat there, utterly stunned.

"Where…how...how did you get this?" I stuttered, my shock evident. The gift was a framed picture of Hamada and me from our tour in Iraq. We were standing underneath the Arc of Triumph in central Baghdad. I didn't remember anyone taking a picture that day, but the proof was in my hand. It must have been taken right after I said something because Hamada's face is frozen in a laugh as I grinned looking at him. This was just after we'd arrived in country; when we still had something to smile about.

"One of the guys snapped it. I remember him telling me about it, and when you gave me that list to help with the security force I asked around. One of them had a copy," Hamada answered nonchalantly.

"I don't know what to say."

"I think thank you is customary," Hamada responded, humor rolling through his words.

"Thank you," I choked out, "Really, this is amazing."

Hamada dipped his head in acknowledgment as I handed the frame to Owen. He smiled at the picture showing it to Barry.

"My turn," Lowery stated, standing up in a rush pulling a bag from behind his chair. These guys knew how to hide presents. It was like watching a Penn and Teller magic show.

I couldn't help but grin as I dug into the bag pulling out a book by Alan Grant called the Dinosaur Detectives. I had read all of Alan Grant's books prior to setting foot on Isla Nublar, in fact, I had this very book.

I wasn't too sure what the protocol was for accepting a gift you already owned so I tried to muster some excitement as I looked towards Lowery, "Thanks. This is great."

Lowery rolled his eyes, grabbing the book from my hands. "The book isn't the present. It's your book."

Uh, I knew I was fairly new to world of giving and receiving gifts, but since when do you wrap something someone already owned and give it to them as a present?

"Ah, I'm not really sure where this is going," I stuttered.

Lowery opened the cover of the book handing it back to me, "Look, it's signed by Dr. Grant."

Sure enough, he was correct. Right there in black and white was Dr. Alan Grant's signature along with a charming note about us all being certifiable for attempting to open Jurassic World, and some thinly veiled threats regarding dinosaur containment. That part was probably going to hurt the resale value.

"Wow, thank you Lowery. This is really thoughtful," I told him smiling. Just then a thought fluttered through my mind, "How exactly did you get my book?"

Lowery cleared his throat, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "Well, I, uh, took it one day when you weren't looking. I knew your birthday was coming up, and I couldn't think of anything to get you then I saw your book. I have a friend, who has a friend, who was able to get it signed."

I burst out laughing, impressed with Lowery's cleverness. Seemed like Owen wasn't the only one I was rubbing off on. A year ago Lowery wouldn't take more than two sugars from the coffee cart, and now here he was stealing right out from under my nose. My little boy was all grown up.

"It's OK Lowery. I love it, it's perfect." He beamed at me in return, and I saw Barry get up and make his way over, "You too? You guys sure know how to spoil a girl."

"It isn't much, but I thought your supplies might be running low," Barry said, placing a basket overflowing with every candy imaginable on the table in front of me.

I felt my mouth water and checked my chin to make sure I wasn't drooling. If I could get up without assistance I would kiss Barry. It didn't matter what the question was, candy was always the answer. Those were words to live by.

"You are my best friend forever in life," I declared, reaching forward to swipe a bag of candy. Or two.

"I feel somewhat irrational that I'm jealous over the way you're leering at that candy," Owen chuckled.

"I'm not leering," I declared as I shoved a handful of Sour Patch Kids into my mouth. Oh sweet heaven above I'd missed this. That cardboard crap they fed me in the hospital wasn't fit for the raptors, and that's saying something considering they eat dead rats.

"You just moaned," Owen alleged, standing up.

"I have a medical condition."

Everyone laughed, exchanging good nights as they made their way to their cars leaving just Owen and me on the porch. I laid my head back letting my eyes closed as I soaked in the last of the sun's warmth.

"I'll be right back," Owen said walking inside. A few seconds later I felt him sit down next to me. "Happy Birthday Josephine."

I opened my eyes, looking over to see him holding a small, neatly wrapped gift. "You didn't have to get me anything Owen. This whole day, the party, it's been more than enough."

He simply smiled at me in return offering me the present. I took the gift from his hand placing it on my lap, biting my lip in anticipation. I didn't know why, but I was nervous.

"It's not going to open itself," he teased.

I glared at him then looked back down at the gift taking a deep breath before ripping off the wrapping paper. It was a small, hand carved, wooden box intricately engraved with floral designs. The flowers were orchids; Guaria Morada's to be exact. One of the most common orchids found in Costa Rica. Somehow I just knew that Owen had carved every delicate detail into this small masterpiece by hand. I ran my hands over the designs imagining the hours he'd devoted to sculpting its perfection.

"As flattered as I am that you like the box that's not the present," he told me.

"It's a really nice box," I laughed, noticing the two small bronze hinges on the back.

Owen tipped his head back and laughed, like, really laughed, until he was shaking. It was the first time since the accident I could remember him laughing, and I secretly thought that was the best present of all. I opened the box peering inside, and instantly felt confused. The only thing inside the beautifully carved box was a silver key. If I was being honest, I liked the box better.

"Wow, a key. Thanks," I said awkwardly, looking to Owen for guidance. He flashed me his 100-watt smile in return.

"You have no idea what it is do you?" he queried.

"A key?"

"You're adorable."

I bristled in response, "I'm not adorable. I'm lethal, dangerous, a stealth ninja." I felt the need to flash my extraordinary skills to prove my point, but my inability to move any major part of my body without pain was cramping my style.

Owen snorted, "Calm down my dangerously, lethal, stealth ninja. You're right, it's just a key, but that's not the point either. It's what they key symbolizes that's your gift."

Jesus Christ you needed a decoder ring to have a conversation with this man. I felt like I was trying to decipher hieroglyphics right now. And men thought woman were difficult.

"I don't want you to freak out," Owen said slowly, pausing to assess me. He was treating me like a skittish animal that was ready to bolt. I was suddenly unease to find out the key's hidden significance. "That's a key to my bungalow. I want you to have it. I want you to move in with me. I understand you may not be ready for that, and that's OK. I want you to have the key, and when you're ready I'll be here."

I didn't move. I didn't blink. I'm pretty sure I wasn't even breathing.

"You want me to move in with you?"

"Yes."

"In your bungalow of love?"

His lips twitched. "Yes."

"But, then I would be there, like all the time." I took a calming breath willing myself not to hyperventilate.

"That's kinda the point babe."

I couldn't hold his gaze any longer, and let my eyes fall to the table. I could feel a lifetime worth of self-doubt rushing to the forefront as all my internal defense slammed into place. This was crazy. Owen and me living together? Madness! I felt my breathing come in shallow pants as I saw our entire relationship play out. I would ruin us. I knew it with the same certainty that I knew Hoskins was a complete asshole. My emotions were violently spiraling down faster than Marco's trashcan punch. Owen was right to have treated me with kid gloves for this; he probably should have sedated first.

"Hey, look at me. Calm down Jo," Owen said, taking my face in his hands. He physically turned my head to look at him so I slammed my eyes closed. Some dangerously, lethal, stealth ninja I was turning out to be. "Look at me, please."

I couldn't stand the desperate pleading in his voice so I opened my eyes, and saw him looking at me with nothing but understanding. He wasn't offended I was freaking out over his offer. He knew before giving me the option it might be too much, and he was ready to accept it. I was reminded of a promise I made myself at the bottom of that cliff if I somehow managed to survive, and I felt the tension and doubt melt away. Right there, on his porch, in the glow of the setting sun I finally understood, he accepted me, he loved me, no matter what. My inner snob rolled her eyes at my daftness, and sarcastically welcomed me to an adult relationship. Bitch.

I took a deep breath smiling at Owen, "OK."

"OK, what?" he asked perplexed.

"OK, I'll move into your bungalow of love."

Owen's brows furrowed as he struggled to keep up. I didn't blame him. I was having more mood swings than a woman going through menopause, but I knew without a doubt this was the right thing to do. I didn't know what was going to happen between Owen and me, but I knew I wasn't going to waste another minute being scared about the possibilities.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to think…"

I cut him off, grabbing his shirt and dragging him to me. I pressed my lips against his and felt his arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. I inhaled his scent relaxing into his body as best I could considering my injuries. Kissing Owen felt like what I was missing my entire like, it felt like home.

We broke apart resting our foreheads against each other. As badly injured as I was at the moment I felt ready for whatever the future held, and for the first time in forever I wasn't afraid.

I leaned back slightly, taking in the sight of Owen. I ran my hand down the side of his face softly telling him, "I want this. I want you. I just need to ask you a favor."

"Anything," he declared instantly.

"I won't give up on you, so don't give up on me."

He held up his pinky finger, smiling at me. "Easiest promise I ever made."

 **The End**

* * *

 **Wow, I can't believe this journey has come to an end. Thank you to everyone who supported the story. It means the world that anyone read it, much less, liked it :) To all those wondering, there will be a sequel to this story that follows Jo, Owen and everyone else through the events of the movie Jurassic World. The major plot will not change, but there will be minor differences since Jo will be there doing her thing. That's what AU is all about, right?**

 **Before I start on that story I'm going to post a companion piece to this story which features Owen's POV for certain chapters. I already have 4 or 5 chapters written and hope to have them up soon. If you want to see a particular chapter through Owen's eyes let me know and I'll give it a go.**

 **Again, thanks to everyone for the support. I hope you enjoyed this last chapter and tune in for the Owen POV piece, as well as the sequel when it's posted. Much love to you all!**

* * *

 **Cass: Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like Jo and find her realistic...it's what I was aiming for :)**

 **sarahmichellegellarfan1: :), right back at ya! Thanks for reading, I really hoped you liked the conclusion. Hope to see you in the future!**

 **jahoney: Thanks again for the great review. You are right, this will add to Jo's already extensive PTSD. She will deal with the aftermath of everything as we continue. I hope you tune in for the companion piece and the sequel. Your reviews mean a lot, thank you!**

 **Desert Vulpes Zerda: You are correct, you can't go more than a few minutes not breathing before your brain turns to mush. Jo wasn't without oxygen for three minutes; that's just how long Owen performed CPR until she started breathing on her own again. How I imagined the scene was Jo losing consciousness on the phone with Owen due to blood loss, she stopped breathing only seconds prior to Owen finding her and he immediately performed CPR thus keeping her heart beating and breathing for her until she could do it on her own. Hopefully that makes sense :) I really appreciate all your support through this journey. It was really great hearing from you each chapter. I hope you come back for the next stories!**

 **BlueEyedPisces: Thanks for another review! I'm so glad you enjoyed the story. I hope to hear from you again in the future!**

 **Malfoy-Whitlock-21: Thanks for coming back and reading! Hope you liked this last chapter :) Don't worry, Jo will eventually figure it out (one way or another :) I hope you continue to follow the sequel and Owen's story. I appreciate your support through this!**

 **twifan1987: I hope this chapter will tide you over until Owen, maybe, pops the question. I think he's trying to bring Jo along in baby steps since she's kinda a rookie at all this :) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing...I hope you continue!**

 **angelicedg: I know, it was mean to leave it like that, but Jo's a survivor. Thanks for taking this journey with me and I hope to hear from you again!**


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